


Peter Pan Syndrome

by Shirimikaze



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, half humour half serious, some mentions of alcohol along the way but nobody gets shitfaced dw, this does not revolve purely around the aforementioned relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirimikaze/pseuds/Shirimikaze
Summary: In which Jonghyun drinks his morning coffee out of aWorld's Greatest Dadcup, Minki is a mentor to the misguided youth, Minhyun maybe deserves better, Seongwoo is a teenager stuck in a dashing adult's body, nobody has an idea what goes through Sewoon's head, Euiwoong is just screwed, Jinyoung sees the lights of teenage life, Youngmin is too good to be true, Taehyun lets nobody live, and many, many more.Alternatively: In which all the boys work in a resort city, somehow learn to co-exist in the jungle that is tourist season, and may end up with a realization or two about life.





	1. Customary Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a native speaker and I didn't have the chance to make somebody fix my grammar/vocab, rip, be merciful (I encourage pointing out mistakes)

To those that liked to hop on the road when their schedules allowed so, the name of Sunny Beach Resort may sound familiar – a lavish vacation city perched on golden dunes, where the beaches were never empty and the streets didn’t sleep. Its reputation was multi-faced, for it held many titles: some highlighting the intense summer spirit oozing from the streets alone, some digging into the more unfavorable nooks of the commercialized resort style.

For the youth, however? To those that were set to face life alongside all its hurdles, the name of Sunny Beach Resort may sound familiar – it was another way of saying “part-time jobs”.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

“Minhyun, the new receptionist is set to arrive in the lobby in 2 minutes! Go fill him in on the bullshit he’s supposed to expect,” Euiwoong poked his head through the staff room threshold, only to swiftly disappear after delivering the message.

Minhyun’s back slightly slouched as he released a sigh. He placed his prized coffee mug on the staff room table and heaved his way up from the couch. Minhyun paused his stride to the door to briefly inspect his appearance in the mirror hanging near the tattered Spongebob beanbag Minki had dragged along one day ( _“now you call this thing ugly, but from the bottom of your misery while you flop in it on some jam-packed day, you’ll be sending me well-wishes,”_ he had justified). Deeming himself decent enough to make a pleasant first impression, he shot a kiss at his reflection and continued his quest to the lobby.

Minhyun was a man full of questions.  Why had he become the designated welcoming committee for new staff? He was a room attendant. Euiwoong had one day simply patted his shoulder and stated that he has a way of making people lower their guard, whatever that meant. Why did they call in the new staff members for orientation at 7am? Minhyun had graduated high school several years ago; attempting to look presentable early in the morning was supposed to be a demon of the past. If tomatoes are fruit, does that make ketchup a smoothie?

Minhyun rounded the last corner before the expanse of the hotel lobby and basked in the morning serenity. The contrast with the chaos they usually dealt with during most of the season was uncanny. He headed to lean on the reception desk when his eyes landed on a boy sitting on one of the couches lined near the walls.

The boy in question was slightly startled by the sound of footsteps echoing in the large space, but quickly recovered with a smile and stood up to walk to Minhyun. Despite tripping somewhere after the third step, he carried on naturally. Minhyun’s business smile didn’t waver, but he felt relieved that the boy wasn’t hired as a waiter.

Minhyun gave their new receptionist a brief look-over with a barrage of predictions on how he’d do on the job rowing through his mind.  The armada of thoughts halted when the boy suddenly stopped in his tracks a couple of steps away and pulled a water gun out of his back pocket.

He looked Minhyun dead in the eye as he lifted the toy level with his face. “Sir, with the power given to me by the state, I arrest you for being illegally attractive.”

A spurt of water found its way straight onto Minhyun’s face. His eyes closed instinctively as his soul left his body, the only thing from the outside world that reached his mind being the sound of Taehyun and Taedong laughing their asses off from a distance with one of them managing to wheeze out a “Pay up, loser, I win!”

 

 

The new receptionist’s name is Hyeongseop. Ahn Hyeongseop. And not even on his first official day he had managed to fall into the devil’s claws.

“Welcome to the family of Sunny Beach Resort, kid. You’ve done your mission well,” Taedong commended the newbie as they shook hands.

They had relocated to the staff room, both for comfort and out of habit. Minhyun frowned at the fact that the only paper towels they had left in the cupboards were in a Hello Kitty print, but he was nonetheless relieved as he dried his face.

“Come on, Minhyunnie, you should’ve seen the expression you pulled. We bring some vital spice into your life,” Taehyun stated with his head half shoved into the mini-fridge.

Taehyun was a doner chef at a fast food joint within a five minute walking distance of the hotel. He possessed the grace of a ballerino with the kebab knife in hand. He was the people’s salvation in dim 2am nights when post-alcohol hunger reigned merciless. Sadly the greasy cooking skills came in exchange for occasionally annoying the shit out of those he loved, but it was a fair trade.

Taedong, his partner in crime, manned the reservation book of the hotel restaurant. The hotel was flashy enough to afford hiring someone to hang around the entrance of the dining hall in a pressed dress shirt. Despite his handsome appearance and slick uniform suit, Taedong actually giggled quite often and never failed to pet the stray cats loitering near the back exit of the restaurant. That bit of cuteness also came at the price of never refusing to take part in stupid ideas should the possibility arise.

Minhyun snorted. “I’ve been a room attendant several summers now. True spice is tidying up the rooms of elderly European couples and finding fuzzy handcuffs. More than one pair.” He made his way to the Spongebob beanbag to be able to contemplate his life choices in relative solace. He wouldn’t admit to using the blasted thing in front of Minki, but that was a concern for another day. “Also, for someone who doesn’t serve the hotel you’re rather chummy with our fridge.”

“When Seongwoo demolishes half of our stash nobody bats an eye, but as soon as I grab a couple of beers you pull the “you don’t even work here” card on me. I see you, Hwang Minhyun, I see how it is,” Taehyun shoots back as he crawls out of the mini-fridge with two cans in hand for him and Taedong. “Oh, hell, where are my manners. Seop, want a beer?”

Hyeongseop shakes his head with a tiny pout. “I’m more of a smoothie and iced tea person.”

“How adorable, he hasn’t been ruined by life yet,” Taedong cooed.

Minhyun turned his gaze to Hyeongseop. He was sat on the trusty staff room couch next to Taedong with a faint smile plastered on his face. The kid was taking the whole situation in stride. Maybe he’d manage to fit in better than what Minhyun’s initial forecasts predicted.

 

 

Later when Euiwoong called to inquire about how the newbie was fairing, Minhyun recapped all the events from the morning and asked for a salary raise. “I’m fully willing to prepare a PowerPoint file explaining why what I get paid doesn’t begin to cover the shit I deal with here.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

For a lot of people, summer sounded like sea waves flirting with the shore, like laughter spilling down the city streets at any time of day, like muffled music from concerts on the beach reaching the ear just enough to remind one how fun dancing is.

Jihoon’s seasonal symphony was a bit different. The sound of fluorescent supermarket lights flickering every now and then. The sound of the rickety air conditioner above the cash register trying to shoulder the summer heat all by itself. The sound of the occasional toddler popping the bubble wrap in the gift section.

Not too long ago Jihoon’s auditory collection had welcomed a new inclusion. The sound of a sigh weaving its way through the aisles.

“Jinyoung, I can hear you mourning your existence from all the way here.”

Despite the two of them being separated by several aisles, Jihoon could still somehow feel the stank eye aimed his way.

“With all your concern for my inner balance your sensitive ass could come help me arrange ramen packets. Some middle schooler managed to knock more than half the shelf down for the third time today,” Jinyoung paused to look at his watch, “and it hasn’t even cracked 1pm yet.”

On first thought, Jihoon would’ve flipped Jinyoung off and pulled out a book to keep him busy until the bell above the entrance door signaled the arrival of another addition to the sea of customers he’d had to use the trademark smile and “ _Good day, cash or credit?”_ on.

On second thought, Jihoon realized Jinyoung wouldn’t even be able to see him from behind the shelves. One glance at the clock above the door to the storage room told him their lunch break would arrive in twenty minutes anyway. If anyone had entered the shop in the hopes of actually purchasing something before then, Jihoon would had most likely told them the cash register was busted and bid them farewell.  He straightened up from his propped up position on the checkout, cracked a couple of joints and silently made his way to the mess of strewn around foodstuffs.

Jinyoung had begun arranging the ramen in alphabetical order by brand, the dweeb. His eyes widened just a tiny bit after noticing Jihoon come over and grab a couple of packets from the floor. “I didn’t actually expect you to do it.”

“I have a princely reputation to uphold. If I feel generous enough later I could let you brag to my admirers about what an amazing life guide I’ve been all summer.”

Jihoon ducked just in time to dodge the pack of spicy ramen that flew over his head. “Get your stuck up flower boy ass out of here.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

There weren’t all that many places that came to mind when one tried to think of a quiet spot in a commercialized beach resort. 

In that aspect at least, Sungwoon had hit the jackpot. His afternoons melted away in a quaint little flower shop, slipping down numerous petals like dew.  The place stood far enough from the beach to avoid the noise pollution emitted by swarms of tourists, yet still as close as it would need to be able to lure the summer breeze in through the back window.

While sorting seasonal flowers into their respective vases on the display, Sungwoon took a moment to mentally thank society for not scheduling special occasions like Valentine’s Day or Teacher’s Day for summer. That was not a mess he was willing to partake in. Which was not to say that he hadn’t witnessed his fair share of basket cases in the store, but at least most of the customers with questionable life decisions came in alone.

During the crucial decision-taking process of where to put the vase of baby’s breath, a girl entered the shop. Sungwoon quickly straightened up his posture to utter the classic “ _good afternoon_ ” and assume position behind the counter. The girl greeted back and approached the flower collections with slow steps. A brief once-over had led Sungwoon to the conclusion that she was a bit tense. She held her head low while observing the vases and hadn’t gazed at him properly since arriving in shop.

After picking up a single aster, the girl walked up to the cashier with small steps. Dropping the requested amount of coins on the counter, she abruptly raised her head to look at Sungwoon straight on and pushed the flower in front of his chest.

“A fortune teller down the street advised me to come here. At first I thought he was crazy, but…” a bashful smile bloomed on the girl’s face, “I can see why now. You’re cute.”

The little cogwheels in Sungwoon’s head all stopped spinning at once. His inner emergency power supply took over and managed to make his hand take the flower offered to him, but his face remained frozen. Even as the girl pranced out of the flower shop with a much bigger smile, Sungwoon needed a minute to let reality sink in.

When a sufficient chunk of his soul had managed to return to his body, he placed the aster in a small cup of water on the counter and made sure the sign on the door facing outwards clearly read “CLOSED” before slipping out of the shop and making his way down the street.

 

 

The door of a dim parlor steadily creaked open.

“Take a seat, dear.”

Sungwoon wouldn’t admit out loud to being startled by the calm voice that suddenly came from the center of the room. A man sat on a small round table with an empty chair waiting opposite him. His features were soft, albeit twisted in an unreadable expression at the moment.

Sungwoon was the type of person to receive noise complaints from neighbors while watching horror movies. This setting wasn’t particularly heartwarming for him. For better or for worse, Sungwoon was also the type of person to get as stubborn as a donkey on a bridge when he set his mind to a task. He wouldn’t have been able to live it down if Taehyun had found out he had chickened out of a fortune teller parlor, either

The furniture was sparse - only the table with its accompanying chairs and a medium-sized cabinet in one corner. A weakly gleaming light bulb hung above the crystal ball placed in front of the fortune teller. Sungwoon tried to make himself as comfortable as he could on the free seat in a dingy place like this.

The man lightly traced the curve of the crystal ball with his fingertips. “You’re the boy from the flower shop,” he stated without looking up from the table. Sungwoon gulped. The sound stuck out like a sore thumb in such a quiet space. “Do you perhaps wish to know why I sent the girl to you?”

Sungwoon could only nod. He involuntarily gripped the tablecloth hanging from his side of the table. The fortune teller slowly raised his gaze until it stopped on Sungwoon’s face. Before the tablecloth could get permanent wrinkles, the man broke out in a sunny smile. “To be honest, she was more of a case of people-reading than anything. I noticed she was gloomy and her confidence was low, so I thought hey - why not try something like talking up a cute guy to switch things up.”

Sungwoon let out the loudest exhale of his life. “For fucks sake dude, with the way you were looking at me I thought you were going to drop some life-changing line about how I was the next Avatar or something.” The guy started giggling unabashedly. Sungwoon narrowed his gaze at him. “But wait, how did you know she’d find me in the shop and how did you guess I’m the one that came in earlier? Why me, of all people?”

The fortune teller grinned. “I’ve been hanging around this resort for years. You could say I have some contacts here-there as well. This isn’t your first summer part-timing in that flower shop either and it’s only natural that I’ve seen you in passing.” Sungwoon dropped the table cloth and pinched his nose bridge with unadulterated exasperation. “As for your last question, however…” the man’s features reverted back to the neutral expression he initially wore. He paused and slightly tapped the crystal ball again. “You’ve recently gone through a break up, have you not?”

Sungwoon paled. His mouth went dry in record speed. His mind was a rollercoaster of questions, most prominent of which being “How did you…”

Before any semblance of rational thinking Sungwoon possessed could shut down for the third time in the span of half an hour, the fortune teller’s lips quirked up once more. “When the girl came into the parlor, I was drinking tea with a mutual friend of ours. Does the name Ong Seongwoo ring a bell?”

Sungwoon threw his hands in the air. “That loose-lipped bastard!”

The fortune teller erupted in a fit of giggles again. “Man, you’re cute when you get mad. Anyway, he stood by when that girl came in looking all distressed and he mentioned having a friend that could use a bit of cheering up. So we joined forces for the greater good. Sorry if I gave you too much of a shock.” He reached his hand out to Sungwoon. “The name’s Yoon Jisung. I have more tea left if you aren’t in a hurry.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Hwanwoong could appreciate a quality summer. Wind, waves, flower fields, all the aesthetic jazz that went straight to the soul. People were more free-spirited and the beach raves were out of this world. He couldn’t complain about part-timing at a summer resort for the most part.

35+°C heats did not count as quality.

The walk to the arcade was a test of his will. The building’s placement near the outskirts of the resort, a couple dozen minutes distance separating it from his flat, was one of the few aspects of this job that made Hwanwoong wish he didn’t have to be an adult. Only the memory that last week the boss had arranged an AC to be installed in every room kept his legs on autopilot. As soon as he opened the door to the building and a familiar chill embraced him much like a mother would, he fell to his knees with a loud groan of relief. He briefly considered how much a fruit basket with a bottle of absinthe in the middle for the boss would cost.

He clocked in, fetched his employee lanyard and made his way to the main hall of the arcade where the magic happened. All the flashing lights and sporadic bursts of sound weren’t for everybody, but Hwanwoong was glad he got to turn a hobby of his into a way to secure cash for fooling around and duct-taping his life together in the meanwhile. Having a couple of soundproof karaoke rooms in the place free of charge for staff members didn’t hurt either.

A group of boys entered the place right as he reached his designated spot at the front desk. They couldn’t have been older than middle school age unless Hwanwoong’s judgement was horribly off. The group went straight for the Wii corner. They passed Hwanwoong by, but one of them stopped to give the employee a quick once-over and giggled.

Hwanwoong lifted an eyebrow at that. “What’s funny?”

The boy looked him in the eye and didn’t blink as he replied “Oh, you’re just pretty short for a guy old enough to work.”

Hwanwoong’s left eye twitched. “Kid. You, me, Mario Kart. _Now._ ”

 

 

Gunhee stood at the bus stop in all of his 181cm beanpole glory. He was about to shoot a text at Hwanwoong asking what pizza he wanted when suddenly a giggly weight flinged itself at him with no speed limit whatsoever. Gunhee’s mouth widened to the size of a ripe peach in shock, but quickly recovered once he took a proper glance at the person snuggled against his chest.

“Daehwi! Oh Jesus I haven’t seen you in ages, you’ve grown lots,” Gunhee noted in a fond voice while ruffling his little brother’s hair.

Daehwi released his koala hold on Gunhee and flashed a blinding smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll get sick of me all summer now. You better take full responsibility and take me around a hundred places.”

Gunhee grinned. “Be careful what you wish for cause I can damn well grant it.” He went for a shoulder grab with Daehwi with one arm and took his phone out with the other. “I have a bit more work over at the karaoke so we’ll go there now, but I could fork you over to my colleague at the arcade section so you don’t fossilize till the end of my shift. Now, what pizza do you want?”

 

 

Gunhee and Daehwi’s walk to the arcade was mapped with light chatter and catching up on the runaway past. A dozen steps away from the entrance their steps halted due to a middle schooler busting the front door open from the inside.

“SCREW YOU, YOUR ARCADE AND YOUR PRINCESS PEACH!”

The fuming boy stormed off, followed by some peers. Gunhee and Daehwi silently followed them with gazes until the group wasn’t much more than a bunch of dots on the horizon.

The first thing the duo witnessed upon entering the arcade was Hwanwoong looking smug as hell while sipping on non-alcoholic mint with a straw. Of course there was a little cocktail umbrella in the glass.

“What did you do this time,” Gunhee asked and rubbed his temples in preparation for the answer.

“So that pissed kid came in and straight up called me out on my height, no reason whatsoever, so I challenged him to a Mario Kart battle of honor. After properly annihilating him for like twenty minutes, he cried out I wasn’t being fair and had his whole squad go against me too. The kid didn’t know I was actually _holding back._ I may be petty, but I wasn’t about to embarrass the guy in front of his friends. As soon as he accused me of being a cheater, however, I absolutely _violated_ those brats, brought some seppuku level shame on their families.” He finished off with a loud slurp of mint.

Gunhee’s fingers did not leave his temples. “Daehwi, this is my colleague, roommate and ticket to hell - Yeo Hwanwoong.” The two shook hands with soft smiles.”Hwanwoong, this is my little brother who is about to have the summer of his life, Lee Daehwi. I trust you not to lead him to sin by the end of the day.”

Hwanwoong scoffed at his colleague and turned to Daehwi. “Young one, I shall be the best almost-uncle you can find around here.” Daehwi could almost feel the stars in Hwanwoong’s eyes poking him. “Now, come along, we have some time to kill.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

To those that liked taking summer up a notch, the route from the central beach to the cavernous night club overlooking the shore was probably like an old friend. The bushes guarding the narrow stone pathway have held one too many regretful life decisions. The night club itself – possibly even more.

 “Where did Hyunbin teleport to?” Donghan shouted from the storage room.

Sanggyun dropped the box he was carrying to stop the waterfalls streaming down his temples. The downside of flaunting your guns often enough turned out to be that people would work you like a rented mule in regards to moving around heavy objects with no regrets whatsoever.

“Not sure, but he mentioned Jonghyun’s name at some point, so the souvenir store is your best bet.”

Several minutes prior, Sanggyun had been wondering in how many ways he could whoop Hyunbin’s ass for disappearing on them while they had to refurnish and restock the club. He then realized Hyunbin’s stick figure proportions probably wouldn’t have helped all too much either way and found peace in his soul. They had to change the tables, bar stools and switch the placement on some shelves behind the bar, after which lining said shelves with more types of alcohol than Sanggyun and Donghan combined could think of was a must.

A bit over an hour and a dozen new bar stools later, the two decided to admire their work properly by sitting on it for a bit. It wasn’t a common sight to witness the club so quiet, so they allowed a comfortable silence to lightly dust the space.

“ ‘Sup, guard hounds.”

There was a sign plastered on the door of the club that boasted “CLOSED” with rather large neon letters. The way Seongwoo breezed past it like it simply wasn’t there felt like an apt illustration of his life. Donghan snickered. Jaehwan trailed right behind, Seongwoo and him jumping over the boxes and tools sprawled on the floor.  The two were clad in their nicer suits, usually reserved for meetings with more influential clients.

“Intruders! How did you know the place isn’t abandoned in shambles?” Sanggyun asked mid-high five. Taking a seat at the bar came after mandatory hugs and greetings.

“Hyunbin texted us you guys would be moving stuff in all afternoon, but the devil himself isn’t even here,” Jaehwan noted with a grin.

“Let me guess, the souvenir shop?” Donghan and Sanggyun nodded in unison. Seongwoo snorted. “At this point Jonghyun should just put a collar on Hyunbin with his address engraved at the back in case he gets lost.”

“You two win from the whole situation, though. We ordered pizza fifteen minutes ago, so no Hyunbin means more food.” Donghan stood up and made a beeline for the storage room. “Let’s see if we have anything humane to drink amidst all the booze. Drinks on the house.”

A corner of Sanggyun’s mouth went up. “ _On the house_ is basically code for _Hyunbin’s the barman so we rummage through his shit without asking_ at this point.”

Donghan returned with a bottle of coke and a couple of champagne glasses _(“we have to at least pretend we’re not degenerates”_ ). “So what’s the haps with you two? You look relatively polished, so I assume some nice wedding’s in the talks,” he inquired while pouring generous amounts for Seongwoo and Jaehwan.

Seongwoo downed half the glass in one breath. “Rich people, the business kind. My favourite. Those usually hide the biggest mess.”

“Seongwoo has a bingo board for bigger weddings like that. The most often crossed out squares include _shotgun wedding_ and _mother-in-law trash talking loudly during the ceremony,”_ Jaehwan noted with an empty gaze and a pout.

Sanggyun cracked up. “With how the two of you have seen so much behind-the-scenes shit by now while planning and organizing I can’t help but wonder how your own weddings would go in the future.” A fond smile expanded over his features by the end of the sentence.

Donghan raised his glass in Jaehwan’s general direction. “Jaehwan would be first, he’d pick some fairytale-esque church and hire the biggest choir in the country. I imagine him sporadically swatting away Seongwoo’s hand away from the champagne and cocktail bites,” he piped in. Sanggyun nodded with fervor.

Seongwoo raised both his hands over his heart. “Why can’t I be first? I’d argue I’m pretty likeable,” he uttered with the biggest mock-offence pout he could summon. “Also I can cook some mean breakfast, instant lady-killer.”

Jaehwan snorted over his glass of coke. “Last weekend it took you half an hour to pick cereal. If you manage to pick a wife by the time I’ve raised three grandchildren I’d commend you.”

Seongwoo scoffed. “What did you say, I can’t hear you over the amount of people trying to hit on me when we attend any social gathering whatsoever.”

Jaehwan put his glass down on the bar, his eyebrows knit together. “You’re really trying me, huh.”

Donghan leaned closer to Sanggyun to whisper in his ear. “If they end up fighting, let’s just quietly leave.”

A knock on the door silenced all chatter. A young boy poked his head through the entrance and looked around.

“Pizza!” Sanggyun and Donghan threw their hands up and exclaimed with the excitement of kids.

The delivery boy made his way to the bar and placed the pizza between Jaehwan and Seongwoo, probably since they gave off the impression of a bunch that could tip nicely with those suits. Seongwoo squinted to read his name tag. _Guan Lin_. Uncommon name, but it wasn’t unusual to chance upon foreign part-timers in such a hot pot of a resort.

“Hey, Guanlin.” The boy was startled at the mention of his name. ”Look at me and this guy,” Seongwoo said as he motioned between himself and Jaehwan. “Which one would you rather marry?”

Guanlin froze. He blinked once, twice, thrice.

“You guys sound kinda sad.”

Jaehwan and Seongwoo stood motionless. Sanggyun and Donghan were losing their shit in the background. “Did I just lose my tip?” Guanlin questioned with a bashful expression and scratched his nape.

“I like this kid!” Sanggyun declared and passed him a wad of cash.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Daniel sneaked his way through the hotel lobby that was bustling with life, not without almost tripping on somebody’s sun dress or some toddler running amok. He passed by the reception desk with a nod of acknowledgement aimed at Euiwoong and Hyeongseop and went straight for the back of the floor, repeating Minhyun’s directions in his mind.

He found the door quicker than expected, with no casualties to boot. Hammered to it stood a shiny metal plaque with “Spa, Massage and Beauty Services” engraved on. Daniel didn’t know what to expect, he wasn’t too big on this side of the self-care spectrum. Minhyun’s warning of _“Don’t mind Eunki if he begins teasing you, he can get playful.”_ didn’t clear up the picture in his head either.

He grabbed the handle and, after a faint exhale, gathered his thoughts enough to push the door open. He found himself standing in a small waiting room with a leather sofa near what he assumed to be the door to the actual studio. It was surprisingly empty for such a full hotel. Daniel took a seat on the sofa and fished his phone out of his pocket to usher the waiting time away.

The door to the studio creaked open and the scent of several generally pleasant things hit him at once. It was quite reminiscent of Moonbok’s shop. The man who opened the door glanced at Daniel and smiled.

“Well what a fine specimen we have here. How can I help you?”

Daniel covered his mouth and let out a bashful giggle. “Hong Eunki?” The man nodded. “I got a recommendation by Hwang Minhyun to come here, the reason being this.” Daniel lifted the sleeves of his shirt to reveal various shades of red marring his arms. A web of scars traveled over expanses of smooth skin. “He mentioned you could do some soothing treatment.”

Eunki clicked his tongue. “Someone’s quite adventurous.”

The familiar by now red crept up Daniel’s ears too. “Ah, not like that, I help out at a veterinarian clinic. Apparently _“don’t touch the cats”_ meant exactly that.”

Eunki chuckled. “Cute.” He gestured to the room behind him. “Come right in, I can soothe the cuts a bit and show you how to take care of them so they don’t leave long-lasting marks. Since you’re one of Minhyun’s boys I could throw a massage in too. Don’t sweat the money, my treat.”

They made their way into the studio. The place had a nice atmosphere, albeit a bit dim. Daniel finally loosened up a bit when he plopped on the treatment bed. He hissed when Eunki applied some cold gel-like substance to his battle wounds, but learned to enjoy the sensation quickly enough.

Treatment and explanations out of the way, Eunki stayed true to his promise of a massage. Daniel tensed a bit when he felt his shoulder being gripped, but melted like a popsicle forgotten out in summer seconds later.

“Oh my god you have magical hands,” Daniel noted with a blissed out expression in between pleased moans. He could get used to this beauty stuff.

“Trust me, sweetie, you’re not the first man to tell me that,” Eunki muttered and pressed on a tight knot below Daniel’s shoulder blade that made him yelp.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Apparently some trending idols had scored an endorsement deal with a big cosmetics brand recently. That was actually great news for the shop and the cash registers. For Moonbok’s sanity? Not so much.

The deal with the shop had been such that alongside the products endorsed by the idols in question, Moonbok was to give the customers posters as well. Thus his day had been a rollercoaster of _“Why don’t you have posters of my fave?”_ and _“I asked for another one!”_ in varying intensity depending on the fan. Moonbok wasn’t even into the group in question, but he was sure that he would’ve been able to recite all their names even in his sleep at that point.

The doors of the store made way to a familiar figure walking to the check out.

“Oh, Minki!” Moonbok flashed a twenty-four carat smile and leaned over the counter to give his savior a hug.

Minki grinned appropriately and gave the cashier a pat on the shoulder. “Moonbok, dear, I’ve come with a mission. I’m going to need enough skincare products to manage a whole routine for two people.”

Moonbok raised his arm in a salute. “Roger. I’ll give you out best, as always.” He beckoned to a colleague of his to take over the check out and made his way to the more high-end shelves with Minki in tow. “Any occasion for the sudden money blow?”

Minki groaned to stop a wave of flashbacks from slamming into his conscience. “It’s barely the start of the season and the liquor store already formed a decent-sized customer base of the lower-end hookers. A lot of them are toothless, Moonbok, _toothless_!” Minki recalled with hand gestures for emphasis. “The job is pretty sobering. It really does great at reminding you youth and beauty are pretty whimsical and don’t stick too long, so you can say I got inspired to step my skincare game up.”

Moonbok hummed in acknowledgement while rummaging the shelves. “And the second set of products you wanted?”

“Oh, I’m gonna have a sleepover at Dongho’s this weekend. I wanna live through the experiences of a high school girl and slather both of us in nice-smelling stuff. God knows he could absorb a bit of gentleness too, sometimes when we go out for drinks with the gang waiters avoid our table out of fear.”

Moonbok chuckled. He kept stacking small packages in his arms. “We should do that sometimes too, sounds fun.”

 “You’re right, we should,” Minki smiled softly. “Thanks for attending to me even on a busy day, I saw the mess lined outside the store earlier.”

“Really, don’t worry about it even a bit. You’re honestly saving my life right now. Fan girls are intense, man. Every time I made a mistake saying an idol’s name they looked just about ready to scalp me,” Moonbok shuddered.

“You’re a trooper,” Minki snickered. “Also, if anyone comes for your hair, I’ll be the first ready to fight. You look great in a pony tail like that.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

Jonghyun was huddled in his designated corner in the souvenir shop, concentration etched on his face as he focused on his Nintendo DS. He didn’t suffer from customer clutters as much as the other guys, which usually left him with a decent amount of time to tend to his hobbies. The place wasn’t too big either, making for quite a peaceful atmosphere most of the time. A pile of sudoku and crossword magazines slept soundly in a drawer of his desk for emergency situations.

The jingle of the little bell above the door made him lift his head. A familiar figure popped in with a box of takeout in hand.

“Missed me?” Hyunbin asked. He went for a smug tone, but he couldn’t hold in the chuckle that escaped him for too long. He made his way to Jonghyun’s desk and placed the takeout box in front of him. “Spicy chicken, extra sauce. I got napkins this time, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Jonghyun replied with a smile. “Aren’t you on shift today?”

“We have two days off till we make some changes to the interior. Boss said he wanted to switch things up for the season,” Hyunbin said as he propped himself on the desk. “We should gather up for a drink once it’s all done. The city’s kinda crazy now with all the tourists, but that's what we have Sanggyun and Donghan for, they’ll cover us.”

Jonghyun hummed over a mouthful of chicken. “Attractive offer. Let’s just keep Daniel and Seongwoo away from the dance floor after the fifth shot, I don’t think I can survive another dance battle between those two.” He reached for the napkins. ”And Jaehwan. I can’t survive him in general.”

Hyunbin snorted. “And after all of this you still get embarrassed when people call you _dad_.” Jonghyun balled up a napkin and threw it at him.

Several moments of banter later the bell above the door welcomed a customer. Jonghyun immediately stood up respectfully and uttered out a greeting laced with a smile. He made his way to the shelves of small collectibles to offer whatever help he could. Hyunbin leaned back on the wall and silently followed the situation with his eyes.

Jonghyun’s tone of voice got a bit softer when he talked to customers. His smile didn’t waver even for a particle of time. Hyunbin’s gaze slid down Jonghyun’s arms. His mannerism was restrained, but confident. Amidst their odd crew of friends he was more of a shadow, but knew how to deal with people when the necessity rose.

The customer found what they came for and bid farewell. Jonghyun gave a small wave before turning around to walk back to his desk. Hyunbin’s concentrated gaze didn’t go by unnoticed.

“What are you thinking about?”

Hyunbin huffed out a laugh. “Nothing.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

How Yongguk managed to book relatively big acts to perform in a summer resort, Kenta would never know. What he did know, however, was that the resulting trickles of dedicated fans at the ticket center were the reason his lifespan was decreasing slowly.

“What do you _mean_ the seating area tickets are sold out? I’ve been camping out here in line for 2 days!” A displeased fan has the gall to even bang their fist on the counter. _Trust me, I wish you didn’t hang around here too._ Kenta couldn’t say that out loud, though. Stacking up his job frustrations and opening the gates of wrath at the arcade afterwards had become a pretty functional pattern of action.

If one were to swerve from the main road of the resort city a bit after entering, chances were they’d stumble upon the main ticker center for any sort of social events whatsoever spanning from exhibits to concerts. A rather diverse crowd was drawn in such a line of work. Kenta had experienced a relatively big chunk of the societal spectrum in just a couple of months without having to move an inch from the ticket booth he had been placed in charge of.

Yongguk had pulled a couple of strings here-there to arrange for some new idol group to perform on the beach in a couple of weeks. I.O.I was their name, and the chatter surrounding the line in front of the ticket booth wouldn’t let him forget. The cash flow was steady and Kenta was sure there was most likely a celebration waiting for him and the gang at the end of all of this. The thought made reality a bit easier to swallow.

To the next entitled fan in line that behaved like everything wrong in the universe was Kenta’s fault, Kenta simply replied _“Excuse me, I don’t understand”_ in perfect Japanese with the highest quality confused pout he could muster. The way they stormed off was instant satisfaction.

There weren’t any cases that got out of hand, thankfully. The line to the ticket counter and the minutes left till lunch break decreased simultaneously until both dissipated into silence. Kenta closed the small window of his booth with a sigh. He armed his backpack and went to lean on the wall of the ticker center building, waiting for Yongguk to pick him up as always.

Kenta was looking through his texts when a poke to his side startled him. He looked up to see the corners of Yongguk’s mouth rising as if his suffering was the most amusing thing on a hot summer afternoon. “Waited for me long?” Yongguk didn’t wait for an answer as both of them trudged up the familiar path to the food joint Taehyun worked at.

“You know, I’ve never stopped admiring you for your haggling skills since you bring some pretty good bands here. But mediating fights for the front row tickets isn’t around the top of my summer hobbies list. Idol fans are almost as intense as metal fans, no joke.” Kenta kicked some pebbles along the way and wondered how it felt to be a celebrity. He had a hard time handling a hundred or so customers over the span of a day, yet stars held thousands of awe-stuck gazes all at once for a living.

“Sorry for that.” Yongguk snickered. “But you’re doing a pretty good job, you know. If you weren’t as attractive I think more people would’ve straight out fought you.”

“Gee, such encouragement, I’m floored.”

“Alright, alright, lunch is my treat, how does that sound?”

Kenta’s face lit up. “All your sins are forgiven.”

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

The earliest parts of the day were arguably Youngmin’s favourite. Being a school body vice president in high school had left him with a plethora of habits that he couldn’t and, frankly, hadn’t even tried to shake off, including waking up alongside the sunrise. Mornings in the hotel restaurant were relatively calm, if mainly for the reason that guests were too tired to wreak havoc at 8am. Arranging breakfasts as buffets meant significantly less hassle for the waiters as well. That fortunate chain of circumstances allowed Youngmin to calmly stroll into the kitchen to check on Sewoon.

As soon as he pushed the doors open, a thick smell slapped him across the face. His nose scrunched up involuntarily. “Sewoon, what kind of travesty are you making again?”

Sewoon was kneeling in front of the oven, observing whatever stood inside quite intently. “When I went to the supermarket yesterday to stock up on spices, Jihoon wondered out loud why they had to line the garlic powder between the baking powder and the cinnamon on the shelves when the combination would just be atrocious. I took that as a personal challenge.”

Youngmin’s immediate reaction was to facepalm. His secondary reaction – to go kneel next to Sewoon and steal a peek at the oven. Another one of the habits that had clung to Youngmin since his high school days was to simply submit to the stream of Sewoon’s questionable ideas and go with it.

The doors to the kitchen flew open again. “Sewo- oh what the hell.” Donghyun entered with a hand pinching his nose. “If the hotel doesn’t blow up cause of you two this summer then we’re most likely immortal. Anyway, Sewoon, table 3 wanted me to call you so they could compliment you on the scones. Youngmin, you come help me change some dishes on the buffet.”

The two stood up from the floor and dusted their pants in an attempt to look a tad more presentable. Sewoon turned off the oven to avoid fulfilling Donghyun’s prophecy so soon. The chef and two waiters walked out of the kitchen shoulder to shoulder with everyone scattering to their appropriate positions in the dining hall. Donghyun and Youngmin stacked and moved plates with surgical precision while Sewoon made a beeline for table 3. Youngmin threw a quick look at him and found the way his apron swayed while he walked quite adorable.

When the waiters were done refilling the buffet, they simply stood on standby near the tables and observed the dining hall. It was a delightful job for someone with people-watching tendencies. Donghyun and Youngmin had made a game out of trying to guess the guests’ background and conversations. The mental gymnastics behind trying to piece together a person’s story from simple glances across a room were quite the feat.

Youngmin found his gaze drawn by the sight of Sewoon speaking to the guests that had requested to see him. It wasn’t everyday that the chef came out into the hall so casually. His faint smile while replying to the commendations suited his features quite well. The way his hair got slightly tousled when he gave a polite bow made it look especially soft, like a delight to the touch. Youngmin’s fingers twitched.

A couple of moments went by before Sewoon turned on his heels and headed back to the kitchen. He couldn’t manage to stifle his smile before disappearing behind the double door.

Youngmin retreated to his thoughts until a guest near the back had motioned for him to come. While passing by tables to reach his destination, he overheard a conversation between two girls.

“Did you see that guy with the apron a moment ago? The chef, I assume. Dunno, his features were kind of wonky. They shouldn’t make him go out of the kitchen like that, he could probably ruin somebody’s appetite,” one of them had said.

Youngmin stumbled in his steps for a split second before resuming as usual. The guest that had beckoned to him wished for a bottle of water. The waiter politely nodded before venturing to the fridge. Youngmin would’ve normally only carried the bottle, but this time he placed it on a tray. He fetched a salt shaker from the buffet before going back the same route to the guest that requested his service. While passing by the table with the two girls, he tipped the tray he was holding oh so slightly.

The salt shaker fell right into the plate of the girl he had overheard. She let out a distressed yelp and slightly flailed her arms. Youngmin rushed to utter an apology and stated he’d compensate the ruined dish with a meal on the restaurant. The waiter quickly made his way to drop off the bottle of water, after which he scurried to the kitchen.

When Sewoon asked him why he was taking the cinnamon-garlic atrocity out of the oven, Youngmin simply smiled.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

To Woojin, small children were like airplanes. Uncomfortably loud, moving at a high velocity, and fairly expensive to maintain. The first two parallels are what made his part-time job a tad more demanding than it could otherwise have been, but he still deemed being a lifeguard at the hotel pool to be better than a lot of other options he had been presented with.

With all the casual nudity going around, Woojin was thankful to the job for pushing him to work out more. His self-confidence had taken a notable leap afterwards as well. He also usually suffered from the duality of enjoying observing people yet feeling too awkward being caught looking. The lifeguard duty, though, gave him a pass to peer freely. For a person whose hobby was fitness, candid scenes of people in swimsuits were mildly fascinating.

Justin had a tad different outlook on the atmosphere surrounding the pool. For him it was a well-structured excuse to show off and attempt to flirt. He was coincidentally shirtless every time he had to clean the pool. His route also coincidentally curved past the recliners where the ladies preferred to sunbathe.

From his favorable vantage point on the lifeguard chair, Woojin watched Justin flex his arms as he was pretending to put in immense effort into reaching a certain spot in the pool with the net. The girls that stood behind him simply giggled amongst themselves.

Woojin briefly contemplated going up to Justin and telling him to just take a dip in the kiddy pool to chill. That’s when he noticed Zhengting coming out of the hotel, heading straight for the bar near the pool. As a yoga instructor in the hotel gym he was most likely coming straight out of a class, if the slight sheen of sweat he was covered in was anything to go by. The way his tank top clung to his body didn’t leave much to the imagination. He passed by Justin to greet him with a pat on the shoulder, which is when the girls lowered their sunglasses and began excitedly chattering. The change in demeanor apparently hadn’t escaped Justin, who simply abandoned the pool net in the usual pile of cleaning equipment and made the walk of shame to Woojin’s chair with a faint slouch.

“When I grow to be Zhengting’s age I sure as hell won’t lose,” Justin muttered as he flopped on the recliner he had set near the lifeguard seat. Woojin stretched down to ruffle his hair.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

It wasn’t too difficult for Samuel to find work for the summer. His parents had been into car dealership for years and had built up plenty of useful resources, hence why all it took was a call to grant their son with a part-time job at a car wash in the resort city just a bus ride away. He actually liked it – his interest in cars that had been sparked by the family business was satisfied by getting his hands on all sorts of vehicles throughout the days. It helped that the resort was a popular one when plenty of rich people pulled up with hot rides Samuel had only seen on episodes of Top Gear. His inner nerd was well-fed.

He sat on the curb sipping a slushie when a motorcycle drove into his lane. It was obviously new, the paint unscathed and the engine revving with the fervor of a battle horn. Samuel traced every detail with an awe-struck expression. His trance was only broken when the rider took him helmet off.

“Dongho!” Samuel pranced up to Dongho to give him a fist bump. “Oh my god, sweet ride. Got it recently?”

The two lived in the same neighborhood before Dongho had to move out for university. The older used to tutor Samuel for a couple of years when he was in high school. So much time has gone by since then, yet Dongho still saw the little brat that was horrible at literature and tripped on his own pajama pants occasionally because the pant legs were too long.

He smiled at Samuel and returned the fist bump. “Yeah, I’ve been saving up for quite a while. Isn’t she a beauty?” Samuel nodded enthusiastically. “I brought her for a quick wash before I head over to see the guys. If I’m going to flaunt, I have to do it properly.”

Samuel quickly grabbed his supplies and dived into work. Dongho went for a slushie as well and sat on the curb to observe the kid as he did his job. His diligence was pretty cute.

“Oh, yeah, Sam?” Samuel turned his head back to properly look at Dongho. “Didn’t you mention you were into idol groups?” Samuel nodded. ”Yongguk, my colleague that organizes music events around here, managed to book a girl group for the end of this month. I.O.I is their name, if that rings a bell to you.”

Samuel dropped his sponge. It took him several seconds of silence to process the news and utter an astonished _oh my God._ He thereafter proceeded to spring to his feet and run up to Dongho.

“Dude! They’re, like, absolute queens right now! When are they performing, where’s the venue, how much are the tickets, oh my God I’m gonna stock up on merch.” Samuel was basically a rambling mess at that point.

Dongho grinned. “What kind of insider would I be if I couldn’t get you tickets? Being the sound tech guy has its fair share of perks.”

Samuel looked just about ready to faint.

 

~-~-~-~-~

 

That point of the day where the sun took a dip into the sea alongside the tourists had arrived. The street lights began their scheduled shift of guarding adventurous by-passers from the unexpected. Daylight may have a curfew, but Sunny Beach Resort did not. Plenty of places kept buzzing with life under the duvet of darkness. One of them was naturally the pizza place along the main road.

 Guanlin set foot in through the main entrance and immediately plopped into the nearest chair. For a first job, pizza delivery wasn’t too bad and the tips were very much welcome. Sure, venturing the city for the better half of the day in the summer heat took its toll on a person, but he was confident he could get used to it.

“Hey!” A voice rang inside the place, oddly cheery for such a late hour of a work day. “How was your day?”

Seonho was perched on the marble counter separating the employee zone and the food court. He had also been on delivery duty for the day like Guanlin, yet seemed ready to take on at least two more shifts.

Guanlin propped his elbow on the table he had dragged himself to and rested his head in his palm. “Not too bad, actually. I got some generous tips. Maybe those basketball shoes I’ve been eyeing for a couple of weeks will arrive sooner than expected.”

Seonho beamed. “Hell, sounds great! Guess who I saw today. The two cool employees we always catch at the arcade and the karaoke ordered from us. Karaoke dude had his little brother over and I got to meet him, I have to introduce you too some time. Apparently awesomeness runs in the family,” he gushed at the memory. “Man, I had some fun clients today.”

Guanlin recalled the bunch he encountered at the night club near the beach. He had stayed a bit after Seongwoo and Jaehwan had regained bits of their shattered pride and had indulged in some light conversation. “I can relate to that.” A lazy smile spread over his face. “There are some pretty interesting people here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that I wrote this before any teasers dropped so I predicted florist Sungwoon, YMC where's my budget cut
> 
> I was gonna work more on this but I'm a slow ass and I really wanted to post at least the first chapter before their debut as an offering to the k-pop lords for prosperity and slayage. I swear some semblance of plot will come in eventually with the following chapters.


	2. Grazed Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes hello I love Energetic do you love Energetic lET'S TALK ABOUT ENERGETIC
> 
> Warning: I am a Daehwi stan and any instance of Daehwi being appreciated in this fic is mainly me violently projecting onto my characters lmfao

The day after Hyeongseop had hauled Minhyun’s soul out in the open, Euiwoong’s first destination after clocking in and grabbing his work binder was the reception desk. He had decided to mentor their new staff member on the know-hows of dealing with overwhelming masses of entitled guests and the politically correct ways of telling them to fuck off. Euiwoong would’ve been willing to dish out enlightenment either way, but he was tipped forward in his steps with the added weight of curiosity. He wanted to see the boy that had managed to make their resident royal flustered from the get-go.

Rounding the corner to the lobby, he stumbled upon who he assumed was the receptionist in question talking to a hand-held mirror and twisting his mouth in variations of a smile behind his desk. It took the guy at least two minutes to realize Euiwoong had been standing a couple of steps away, observing him with a blank expression, and once he did, he jumped up in shock with a hand over his heart.

“Announce yourself, dear lord. My heart is fragile.”  The receptionist’s hand relocated to his face. His ears were flaring red. Euiwoong snorted.

“Ahn Hyeongseop, I assume?” The boy nodded. “If you’re asking the mirror who the prettiest in the land is, then I’m sorry to say you haven’t managed to kill Minhyun yet.”

Hyeongseop groaned. “It’s not that. I was… I was practicing my expressions for in front of guests.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “It’s my first time having to confront so many people at once, so I feel like I need to prepare myself.”

Euiwoong shortened the distance between them one assured step after another. “And that’s where I enter the scene.” He extended his hand towards Hyeongseop. “Lee Euiwoong. Sort-of-supervisor. I mostly make the staff schedules and do some accountant duties in the meanwhile. I’ll stay with you here on the desk for the day to ease you into things. If I go by your applicant documentation, you’re two years older than me, so you don’t need to be tense.”

Hyeongseop shook his hand with an awed expression. “Wow, you’re so young and you get to do the important-sounding stuff. My mom didn’t let me near the kitchen at home until recently.”

Euiwoong shifted his gaze slightly downwards. “Trust me, it’s really not as impressive as it may sound.” He passed Hyeongseop by to make his way to the other side of the reception desk, setting the binder with documentation down and taking a seat. “I’ll be doing my work here, poke me if you need something.”

Hyeongseop hummed and smoothed his uniform dress shirt before straightening his back and turning to face the lobby. He adjusted the nameplate clipped to his breast pocket several times with a smile, trying to find the immaculate angle where the sunlight would hit it just right.

The sound of Euiwoong’s pencil forming strings of numbers from the previous month’s revenue became smaller and smaller in the open space as people started trickling in. Euiwoong tried to steal glances at Hyeongseop in between scribbles while he was talking to hotel guests. He was surprisingly firm in his responses. His voice was a steady stream of the characteristic cotton worker tone and his expressions gave away no evident cracks in demeanor. One guests turned away from the reception desk, though, his posture seemed to deflate just the slightest bit. Euiwoong didn’t catch the moment when he’d just began drawing squiggles on his calculation sheets in exchange for observing the way  Hyeongseop’s features curved while he churned out directions to varies parts of the hotel premises per request of some family. Hyeongseop sent the guests away with a chipper _Have a nice day and enjoy your stay!_ before letting a sigh dribble from his lips.

While turning to the side to arrange some room keys, he latched onto the sight of Euiwoong peering at him with an impassive countenance. Hyeongseop cocked his head in an inquiring manner. They lapsed into a couple of languid moments of eye contact until Euiwoong found the need to say something.

“Looks like you won’t need much tutoring. You seem good at handling people.”

Hyeongseop smiled in reply. “I’m glad I make that impression.”

He carried on with his initial intention of tidying the drawer where the room keys were kept. The atmosphere was missing the sound of a pencil colliding with paper. Euiwoong aimed his gaze at the floor with his eyebrows scrunched.

Several dozen more guests found their way in front of the reception desk in the next hour or so, each uttering their demands and parting with the same customary _Have a nice day!_ trailing behind them. Euiwoong used the next possible dip into silence to turn to Hyeongseop and clear out his mind.

“Feel like going to a party this weekend?”

It took Hyeongseop several seconds and quick blinks to let it sink in that the question was aimed at him. “Details please.”

 “It’s a bit of a long-running story. Minhyun is best buds with three other guys that work around here, two of which he shares a flat with. They’ve been temping in this city for a couple of summers now, I think, and the first time they all got here they threw a party on the first Sunday of job season. They did it again the next year with more people, so it sort of stuck as a tradition. With the way the crew increases each time we’ll probably need the concert venue soon enough, though.”

Hyeongseop nodded slowly with lips slightly parted in realization. “So like an exclusive cult meeting?”

Euiwoong snorted. “Close enough. So, willing to partake in some satanic rituals?”

Hyeongseop’s fingers dug into the sleeve of his uniform.  “How many people are there gonna be, approximately?”

“We were almost 30 last year, so a bit more than that this time. Thank god we won’t be at Minhyun’s flat again cause I’m not sure which would’ve happened first – the place exploding or him flinging someone out of the window for making a mess.”

“Wow, and all 30 or so of you are some regular squad? I don’t think I have that many people saved in my phone contacts.” Hyeongseop’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Euiwoong had begun tapping the back of his pencil on the desk. “Some are closer than others and awkward moments still ensue, it’s inevitable, but I guess there’s a sort of chill vibe surrounding everyone. If you’re worrying about the amount of people, I don’t know how much weight my words carry, but I can say with certainty that nothing generally ugly has happened so far in this company.”

Hyeongseop chewed on his upper lip and fiddled with his uniform sleeve for a bit more until finally nodding with determination. “Alright, you won me over. Bring on the cult robes.”

 

 

“Thanks again for the neat stew last night, Mrs. Kang! Take care!” Minki waved enthusiastically over his shoulder as he dragged Dongho down the staircase. Dongho hadn’t even fully buttoned up his shirt and one of his shoes felt untied.  Years of practice had taught him better than to interrupt an antsy Minki, though.

Dongho managed to receive his warranted touch-up moments in front of the apartment building entrance when Minki stopped to text Hyunbin. “Why do you want to be amongst the first at the party so much?” he asked while crouching over his tangled mess of shoelaces.

Minki stood frozen for a speck of time until he instantly began sparkling at a text. “Hyunbin said nobody’s at the club yet! Hallelujah! But to your question – oh dear comrade, have you not grasped the rules of the world yet?” Minki pocketed his phone with one hand, placing the other on Dongho’s shoulder. “In this weird following we’ve amassed, we’re the seniors. We’re the prototypes, the war chiefs. I want to get there early and scope the new recruits.” His free hand squeezed into a fist and shook dramatically at the sky. “Some of them will be fit for survival, some may not make it. The city is a jungle. And we must show them the law.”

Dongho blinked in silence several times before placing his hand atop Minki’s on his shoulder. “I’m not letting you drink more than two beers tonight.” Minki scoffed. “Anyway, if you’re so concerned about your status amongst a bunch of disoriented uni students whose best current life skills are ordering pizza, I’ll indulge you. Follow me.”

They found themselves in the apartment building garage in front of Dongho’s motorcycle with helmets in hand. “If you scratch her, I’m telling Gunhee you broke into his flat that one time just to steal some of the muffins his mom sent him.”

 

 

Hwanwoong let out a low whistle. “Shit, you fixed this place up pretty nicely.”

“Well, what can I say,” Hyunbin replied with a smug shrug from behind the bar counter while scrubbing some glasses.

Donghan threw a bottle cork at him. “Silence, defector. You weren’t even here for a big part of it.”

Gunhee inconspicuously reached for the jug of strawberry sangria standing temptingly near before having his hand simultaneously slapped away by Hwanwoong and Sanggyun who were sitting on either side of him. Daehwi was marvelling at the rows of multi-colored bottles in various shapes lined behind Hyunbin’s back.

The door to the club flew open with a sharp creak, revealing a disheveled Minki gripping the threshold. “Aha!” He deflated like a pool floatie after his eyes bounced around the space for a bit and identified the string of people near the bar. “Gunhee you traitor, getting here ahead of me like this.”

Gunhee shot a kiss at him. “All is fair in love, war and snatching a nice seat.”

Minki grumbled through his way to the stool next to Hwanwoong’s. It was only seven of them so far on the frontlines, lined on the bar like crows perched on a telephone line. Donghan, Sanggyun and Hyunbin had been done with the finishing touches on the club interior earlier than expected and had pitched the idea of holding the annual get-together in there while it was still closed to customers.

“Hey, young one.” Minki leaned forward over the bar counter to extend a hand towards Daehwi. “I assume you’re Gunhee’s cherished successor. Choi Minki, I’m one of the bosses in this mess. If your big bro goes overboard with the wine again, I can shelter you for a night and we can do face masks.” Gunhee pouted incredulously. Daehwi returned the handshake with a sunny smile and self-introduction.  

Minki turned towards the rest. “By the way, Dongho’s the one that dropped me off but he’ll get here in like 20 minutes, he claimed he went to fetch a kid he knows.”

“Looks like we’ll be getting a younger crowd than usual this time,” Sanggyun noted with a nod. “Hyunbin, hide the heavier stuff. We gotta be proper influences.”

Everyone lifted an eyebrow at the statement. “You’ve gotten pretty responsible, huh,” Donghan quipped.

Sanggyun scoffed. “Like hell I am. I don’t want to knock them out but I’m not holding anybody back either. Fetch the beer and cider. We have to start schooling the hatchlings from the lowest step of the ladder.”

 

 

People started gradually filing in over the course of the following hour. Alongside Samuel (who managed to glue himself to Daehwi on the first minute like a magnet), Dongho also dragged in a hefty stereo and a couple of karaoke microphones, which elicited a round of cheers from the crowd on the bar. Daehwi may or may not have audibly gulped at the sight of Dongho, but the noise managed to muffle any trace of it. Yongguk was appointed as the DJ for the night after a democratic vote and someone pointing out that he didn’t have ads on Spotify.  When the headcount surpassed 20, the bulkier of the guys banded together to move a bunch of tables and chairs closer to the bar counter so the company wouldn’t have to get torn apart like a summer cloud.

 

 

"If you end up embarrassing me in front of a couple dozen people, I'm immigrating," Sungwoon pouted. Escape was not much of an option with Taehyun's iron grip on his wrist and confident stride towards the club.

Taehyun didn't even turn his head to deliver a reply. "Now when have I ever done that?" Sungwoon opened his mouth to provide a wide list of receipts, but was promptly interrupted. "Ah, we're here! That's it, the building behind the row of bushes."

Taehyun suddenly halted in his steps a couple of meters away from the entrance. Sungwoon was about to complain about almost smashing into his back when he turned around with an earnest expression. "All jokes aside, the guys truly are chill. Seongwoo and I may be pieces of shit when we want to be, but we wouldn't drag you to a douche fest. If you end up feeling uncomfortable, just poke me and we'll be out in no time."

Spending a Sunday in a closed club with a couple dozen people he'd be meeting for the first time wasn't amidst Sungwoon's preferred weekend plans. The stable tone of Taehyun's voice told him he could afford to take the leap of faith, though.

Pushing the door open, they realized they were some of the last to arrive. Most of the seats skirting the makeshift table clutter near the bar were taken. Trust Seongwoo to be as discreet as an elephant in a fine china shop and flail his arms in the air to indicate that there were two unoccupied chairs next to him.

Sungwoon walked a beat slower than his best friend to garner himself time to assess the situation. Taehyun seemed to be well-liked in this little cult he'd managed to nestle his ass into. He went through all the seat to give away hugs, occasionally opting for a handshake instead with new faces.

Once greetings were out of the way, Taehyun and Seongwoo exchanged knowing glances and nods. They banded together to grab Sungwoon by each side and drag him around the room to introduce him to everybody. The trouble duo had been prepared for some sort of resistance from their captive, but the whole process went rather smoothly. Sungwoon even had a lasting smile etched onto his face after the first few pleasantries.

The last direct meeting he was faced with came in the shape of the smiley guy sitting next to Seongwoo. "Now, last but not least, the trusty fuckstick I work and live with - Kim Jaehwan. We bicker way too much, but surprisingly whip out great weddings." Sungwoon found it difficult not to contract his good vibes. "Jaehwan, remember last year at that beach ceremony when our regular flower supplier cut us off at the last moment? Sungwoon's the one that saved our asses, I ran to his shop back then."

It took him a second to rustle his memories, but Jaehwan's eyes lit up when he recalled the event in question. "That huge white lily arrangement was your doing?" Sungwoon gave a small nod. "God, that was one of the prettiest things we've gotten. The bride's mother was seriously about to bite our man-jewels off before Seongwoo showed up with it. Belated, but I feel obliged to treat you some time."

Sungwoon actually giggled at that. "I'm flattered, but no need. I have fun making arrangements anyway." For something that started out as a way to make cash to feed the furnace of university life, florist duties had turned into a full-fledged hobby at some point. Genuine compliments on his work were few and far between, so Jaehwan's words stuck with him.

The trio finally settled into their seats and submerged into the sea of chatter surrounding the group.

 

 

In the middle of telling a joke, Seongwoo’s head shot up as he started quickly looking around. Daniel, sitting near him, got startled and began blinking rapidly to regain his composure. “Dude, what was that for.”

“I sense…” Seongwoo slowly directed his gaze towards the door. “Nibbles.”

A smiley head peaked in through the entrance. “Did someone order pizza?” Seonho trudged in with a couple of boxes stacked in his arms, Guanlin following closely behind with a similar cargo. The club went wild with hoots and shouts of unadulterated glee, each of the guys getting up to greet the pizza boys in their own ways, be it a hug, pat or an appreciative slap on the ass.

“Who are we missing? The place looks pretty full.” Jonghyun piped up from his seat.

Jisung briefly scanned the perimeter while quietly muttering everyone’s names under his breath. “Jihoon. He’s probably out of matching socks again, that twerp.”

 

 

“Everything peachy? You look a bit fidgety.”

Jinyoung dug his hands into his pockets to destroy any evidence of how tense he felt. ”Yeah, all good. I guess I’m just a bit nervous since I’m not good with large groups of people.”

Jihoon ruffled Jinyoung’s hair with both hands, triggering a loud yelp out of him. “Some of the guys could look a bit cold on first glance, but once you see them literally wrestling for the last napkin you’ll begin wondering why you were ever high-strung.”

The last swirls of daylight melted by a couple of minutes more and the door of the club opened to the boys in question, who aimed a small wave at the general direction of the clutter of people. The guys all greeted back with relief that the squad was complete.

“Greetings, young padawan,” Woojin cracked out. “Spent a decade trying to coordinate an outfit?”

“I don’t want remarks about my fashion from a guy who wears Timbs in summer. Anyway, to the important matters, I have brought a human sacrifice.” Jihoon dragged a flustered Jinyoung through the door. A commotion of whoops and brief applause resounded through the club, making Jinyoung smile despite the feeling of a spring coiling in his chest.

“Introduce yourself, nugget,” Eunki prodded.

Jinyoung needed a moment and a deep inhale to raise his gaze to the expectant crowd around the bar. Jihoon placed a hand on his back in an attempt to be comforting. “I’m Bae Jinyoung, I finished freshman year of high school recently. I work in the convenience store a street over with Jihoon.”

A chorus of thirty voices simultaneously shooting back a mellow _hello, Jinyoung_ made him chuckle. Donghyun cracked up as well. “It’s like we’re at an Alcoholics Anonymous gathering.”

Jonghyun stood up to gather everyone’s gazes. “Well now that that’s out of the way,” he clasped his hands together, “I say we begin the feast.” Everyone lost count of how many times they collectively cheered throughout the evening, but the uproar for food was certainly the loudest so far. Yongguk slipped through the mess of bodies to turn the music up. Taehyun seized the chance while everyone was busy eating and couldn’t protest to pull his camera out and snap a couple of pictures of everyone cluttered together.

Jinyoung did not know what he’d expected.  What he knew is that it wasn’t warm pizza being casually thrust into his hands, even warmer laughter whirling around the air like a light mist and a boy with the warmest smile he had seen sitting next to him to start up a conversation. The boy introduced himself as Lee Daehwi and began effortlessly chattering about the smallest of things. Jinyoung quickly reached the conclusion that he liked Daehwi.

When the pizza was distributed accordingly without fights and casualties, Donghyun shouted out, “Hyunbin, work your magic!”

Accompanied by chants of his name, Hyunbin made his way to his allotted spot behind the bar with a self-assured grin. He grabbed three bottles from the shelves and lined them on the counter alongside other required utensils. With eyes dead-set on the group, he threw the bottles straight up in the air one by one. Hyunbin allowed satisfaction to well up in him when he heard the newbies gasp as he juggled the alcohol with deft hands. Samuel’s arms shot up in astonishment with a single _oh my God_ escaping him. After swiftly setting aside two of the bottles on the counter, he flipped the one left in his hands a couple of times more for good measure and finally poured the liquid in a tin.

The club erupted in joyful shrieks, some of the boys throwing balled-up napkins at Hyunbin as acclamation. He finished pouring everything into a cocktail glass and held it up in front of the peasants like the scene from the Lion King. “Who wants the Red-Headed Slut!”

Hyeongseop choked on a pizza slice. Woojin attempted to save his life with fierce back pats.

“You made that one just so you could say its name out loud, didn’t you,” Jaehwan deadpanned.

“I wanna try it.” Taedong slid closed to the bar. “What’s in it?”

“Jägermeister, peach schnapps, cranberry juice,“ Hyunbin recited as he passed the glass.

A few chants of _down the slut, down the slut_ and Taedong shaking his head as he felt his throat catching fire later, Seongwoo and Taehyun requested  whatever other crude-sounding cocktails the barman could whip up.

A smiling Hyunbin passed Seongwoo a small brown glass topped with whipped cream. “For one of my dearest seniors – a Blow Job.” Seongwoo choked on the first sip as he heard that, making everyone dissolve into laughter at his attempts to salvage his dignity and pretend nothing happened. He didn’t notice Daniel discreetly shooting the barman a thumbs up.

“I don’t know if I’m nervous or excited over what kind of mess you’ll give me.” Taehyun gripped his seat as he peered over the counter.

“Will nobody question why Hyunbin knows how to make all of those?” Yongguk muttered unnoticed at the back.

Hyunbin glanced at Taehyun with a gentle expression. “You’re close to my heart, so I’ll put in effort for yours.” He chose to ignore the indignant “ _Does that mean you didn’t put in effort for mine?!”_ from Seongwoo. He seized hold of more than five bottles and shook the appropriate amounts of their contents together with pure glee. He pushed a shot glass towards Taehyun, a pleasant aroma wafting out from the brown liquid inside.”1-900-FUK-MEUP, made with love.” Taehyun downed it in one breath and released a battle shout at the sting.

"Oh, this reminded me." Taehyun cleared his throat to gather the ensemble's attention. "Dear minors, I don't want to be the fun police here cause that's usually Minhyun's job," he paused his statement to dodge the bottle cap Minhyun threw at him, "but for now we aren't allowing you anything heavier than light beer and maybe a sip of some spirit of choice if you feel like experimenting and ask cutely enough. Salvage whatever innocence you have left, it's too late for the rest of us."

The nuggets took it rather well. Apparently none were in the self-destructive headass stage of teenage life, seeing as nobody tried to refute the rule. Jonghyun donned a proud father smile at the thought that despite their numbers, they had managed to keep a relatively civil crowd for their get-togethers.

Hyeongseop's ears lit up in a gentle blush as he requested a simple smoothie after all the cocktail shenanigans, but everyone cooed at him and ruffled his hair. Hyunbin even placed one of those mini umbrellas in his glass.

Minhyun tapped Jonghyun on the shoulder and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "You know I'm terrible with alcohol anyway, so I'll take over mom duties for the night. Let loose, you deserve it," he finished off with a smile.

They crossed stubborn gazes for a bit like rams clashing their horns before Jonghyun relented and nodded in agreement. "Hyunbin, I'm up for a challenge. Shoot a margarita my way."

"Pops is getting adventurous!" Woojin shouted with mirth dripping from his voice. The room was infected by a fit of giggles. Jonghyun reached to smack him on the back of the neck with a grin.

"Aye, captain. Let me just check the proportions." Hyunbin took out a small notebook from under his station behind the bar.

Jaehwan lowered his glass of wine to give his two cents. "Of course he can make stuff that sounds like it was taken off a hooker catalogue without batting an eye, but he needs to check for a classic."

After Hyunbin finished his service to society he made a detour to the fridge to grab a drink for himself as well. When he reclaimed his seat on one of the bar stools with a coke can in hand, Sungwoon raised an eyebrow at him. "After literally juggling all that alcohol like a waterbender, you settle for a coke?"

Hyunbin calmly shrugged and took a sip. "Trust me, I'm not too shabby at holding my liqueur, but over the seasons I've been pouring for countless people whose only intent is to be dead to the world for a night. Not the prettiest sight. Seeing the whole post-tipsy spectrum unfold from the sidelines over and over again kinda killed my joy, you know? Especially when I remember the moments during which I've been in a ditch like that too."

"Fair enough." Sungwoon nodded in acknowledgement. "You sound more responsible than most, cheers." Hyunbin flashed a grin at the compliment.

A few minutes later, Jisung stood up and clapped his hands together to momentarily halt all buzzing conversations. "Now that everyone's nursing a drink, without further ado, a toast to the founding fathers." He lifted his glass with one hand and vaguely motioned to Minki, Jonghyun, Minhyun and Dongho with the other. "Without them, we all probably wouldn't have had an excuse to clear our shifts for the Sunday."

Minki booed him. "Is that all our friendship is worth? Begone, leech."

"Alright, alright, seriously now," Jisung added with an exaggerated pout. "Maybe I'm pretty glad I got to meet everyone like this. You all make tourist-cluttered summers worth it." He didn't manage to uphold his pout for long as a smile escaped him. "Cheers for brotherhood, love and the fact that if it wasn't for Jonghyun someone would've died by now." The club was engulfed in a deafening cacophony of glasses clinking together and various cries of happiness.

 

 

Interest spiraled into the direction of the karaoke mics when Minki bunny hopped his way to the middle of the room to set the night ablaze with a Lady Gaga cover. He swiftly managed to convert Daehwi into an accomplice and passed him the microphone every now and then. The two were a mess of swaying hips and attempts to hype the audience as if they were holding a concert.

Minhyun took over with a sweet slow song that complimented his voice quite well. The guys were just swaying left-right languidly in their seats to the melody. Seonho glued his star-struck gaze to Minhyun for the duration of the entire song and immediately shushed any interruptions. When Minhyun finished with a bow and a sheepish smile, the kid rushed out a fascinated “Wow, was that the original key?” followed by a train of compliments.

The high in emotions relocated to the dance floor as Taedong and Donghan requested a couple of idol group songs and went through their respective choreographies with some impromptu fanchants for support. Kenta ordered girl group songs to show them who’s boss, the accompanying hoots almost making the bottles on the liqueur shelves shake. In a sudden burst of confidence, Hyeongseop got up to him to flaunt a couple of moves as well. The two were in their own bubble of girl group dances for a while until their energy left them. They spiralled into sunny smiles and finished off with a hug.

Eunki and Zhengting just casually started a competition on who was more flexible. Some moves made the other guys feel tinges of pain in their lower regions simply by watching. Daehwi and Sungwoon went out to challenge them by doing the splits, but laughed it off and sat down once they failed miserably.

Things got a bit more intense as Woojin came out on a stronger beat and basically wiped Hyunbin’s floor for free with powerful moves. Turned out the kid was in his high school’s dance club. He peered to the crowd with a challenging gaze to beckon somebody to a battle.

“Hold my beer.”  Sewoon stood up with the most serious expression anyone had seen on him all week and legitimately just did the worm on the floor. The following wave of laughter that shook the room was greatly appreciated, but safe to say nobody gave him his beer back after that.

 

 

At some point after demolishing an entire pizza by himself and bearing astonished looks from the whole table, Seonho stood up with satisfaction and grabbed one of the karaoke mics left near the stereo. "Hey, DJ Yongguk, can I order a song? I'm feeling bold."

"Sure, just say what you want."

"” _A Glass Of Soju”_. But I need a volunteer for a duet."

"” _A Glass Of Soju”_ sung by a minor..." Jisung marveled out loud, eliciting some cackles around him.

Sungwoon quite liked that song. The gears in his head started spinning at the prospect. He constantly hummed while arranging flowers and even burst into song freely when nobody was around to hear. Doing a ballad in front of 30 people was a bit of a different hurdle, however. Observing all the dopey smiles and relaxed postures in the room made him wordlessly stand up and grab one more microphone. Taehyun gave a supportive hoot like an uncle at a football game.

Seonho took over the first verse with everyone snickering over how dramatic he was being. His voice crack at the end threw any sort of tender mood that could’ve come about out the window. The kid cemented his reputation as a new recruit to the shameless squad.

Everyone promptly shut up when Sungwoon opened his mouth, though. After all the bullshittery during recent hours, the sliver of purity covered by clear vocals was quite sobering. Sungwoon briefly registered the lack of chatter in the background, so he simply closed his eyes and delved into the melody to avoid overthinking it.

The duet reaped a fervent round of applause as the final notes of the song disappeared into the air. Sungwoon gave Seonho a pat on the head before heading back to his chair. While taking a sip of beer, he noticed Jaehwan peering at him with a smile.

“Man, you sound trained. Your high notes were pretty stable.” The smile turned mischievous at that point. “I’m petty, though. I won’t lose.” Jaehwan stood up and went to grab two microphones. “Sewoon, let’s teach them not to screw with Applied Music majors!”

The two went for a ballad as well. An experienced observer would be able to note how relaxed they looked with microphones in hand. What one didn’t need to be an experienced observer to be able to note was how mind-blowing their harmonies were. The guys crowding the bar and tables couldn’t even find it in themselves to sway around like previously, they were simply transfixed. While Sewoon had a more mellow tone that treated the ear like a blanket, Jaehwan certainly didn’t lack power. Sungwoon, unblinking, came to a realization.

Jaehwan and Sewoon finished off neatly and laughed bashfully when the surge of applause and shouts of approval hit them. “That’s it, plug the mics off, nobody can top that,” Taehyun quipped. The two went back to their seats casually as if they hadn’t just blown the night away.

Sungwoon let reality sink in – someone as skilled as Jaehwan wouldn’t throw around compliments with ease. He had genuinely found Sungwoon’s singing voice nice. To someone who disliked displaying weakness, praise was like a drug, an incessant craving sleeping bellow the conscience. Sungwoon wasn’t sure how to save this piece of information, but giddiness was a clear part of the equation. He had to pretend to take a long sip of beer to hide a stray grin.

 

 

Daehwi raised a hand. "I have a question." The way he was perched on one of the bar stools with his back as straight as an arrow, legs huddled together and a cup of banana juice gripped closely honestly melted everyone's hearts in a puddle of endearment. "All of you are far from being in the same line of work and, from what I gather, most you haven't studied in a common place either. How do you get along so well?"

The eldest shared looks amongst themselves. "Who's going to begin with that cheesy cycle of life theory again?" Taedong raised a hand with unbridled enthusiasm.

"A big part of us work in the grand hotel up the main street and share the same staff room, so that clears a bit of your question up, but for the rest, it could be explained with this." Taedong cleared his throat for supplementary dramatics. "You see, muffin, life is but a cycle. There's arguably nothing new under the sun. In a similar manner, raunchy resort city visitors have their patterns." Daehwi was pretty sure he heard someone sigh and say “ _here we go again_ ” in the background, but he was too hungry for answers to care.

"It mostly goes like this - they go stay and make our lives difficult in the hotel, then come here to make a general mess in the club and afterwards finish off at Taehyun's around 1am when the drunken hunger is at an all-time high. Bonus points if they pass by Minki's liquer store on the way back to their rooms. Depending on whether Seongwoo, Jaehwan and Yongguk have something in the works, the circle of life could widen up a bit. We're all stuck in a big yarn ball of the red string of fate," Taedong ended off with a contented nod.

Sanggyun took the baton. "The arcade is usually where we go to pass time between shifts and legally kick eachother's ass. Trust me, the police station here ain't fun. Hyunbin heard Gunhee sing his heart out one day at one of the karaoke rooms in there and challenged him to a high note battle for the heck of it. I think everyone else in the building at that moment promptly left."

"Eunki gets most of his nice-smelling esthetician shit from Moonbok's store, so the poor guy just got sucked into everything," Woojin piped in.

"Seonho and Guanlin are new, but my sixth sense is telling me we'll be calling them a lot." Donghan pointed at the delivery boys with a pizza slice to get his point across. "Jihoon is mainly a victim of our midnight instant ramen runs to the convenience store."

"Not gonna lie, I get a ton of kitchen supplies from Jihoon's store since it's the quickest and cheapest alternative around. That's how I got to talk to him. I guess I'll be seeing Jinyoung a lot too, then," Sewoon added fondly. Jinyoung gave him a small smile in reply. "I think Daniel, Jisung and Sungwoon are the only ones with relatively odd placements, then?"

Youngmin shrugged. "Grass is green, the sea is blue, Jisung somehow knows everyone. We haven't questioned it." Jisung gave a thumbs up in approval.

"I didn't even get to meet you guys through my job," Daniel recalled. "One day I got home from work and noticed my cat was gone. As soon as I felt like I was going to pass out, I heard someone yelping from the street under my window. Lo and behold, Seongwoo had tried to pet my precious and it apparently hadn't gone well. The rest is history."

"That's still, hands down, my favourite first meeting story we have in here," Jonghyun spoke up. "What are the odds, generally speaking? You even became roommates."

Taehyun snickered. "Still? Did Sungwoon tell you how he met Jisung?" Sungwoon groaned and attempted to bury his face in the table like an ostrich. Jisung began prattling on about the details of their first meeting, much to everyone's amusement and Sungwoon's burning red ears.

Minhyun turned to Daehwi, not forgetting where this whole train of conversation began its journey. "There's plenty more trivia you'll get to learn with time, but the foundations were basically this. Did that answer the question?" Daehwi quickly nodded with glimmering eyes.

Seongwoo let out an audible _awww_ at the view. "How are you so adorable while your older bro is a hell reject."

Unfortunately, the hell reject could hold grudges. "If you aren't careful, the only thing your karaoke discount card will be useful for soon enough is to ash your cigarettes on it."

“Speaking of cigarettes,” Daniel stood up while rummaging his jean pockets, “I think the time feels pretty right for a smoke interlude.” He tapped his pockets a few more times with an expression of pure concentration until his hands simply fell limp on either side with a sigh after not finding what they had set out for. “Seongwoo.”

“I know, I know,” Seongwoo took out a lighter out of his back pocket and lightly pitched it to Daniel. “You’re literally the reason I carry around spare lighters. I won’t roast you for it cause it’s saved my own ass sometimes, but still.” He also left his seat and headed to the front door. “Rise, degenerate army!”

Daniel, Seongwoo, Hyunbin, Yongguk and Sanggyun set forth into the cool night air. Taehyun was last on the trail, but stopped on the threshold to turn a questioning gaze towards Sungwoon. Sungwoon simply shook his head and plainly motioned to him to just go out.

Jihoon drummed his fingers on the table surface in a quick erratic pace. He had probably let his expression fall while peering at the door to the club, prompting Guanlin to ask him if anything was wrong. Jihoon calmly denied that being the case and let his hands twist a lonely straw rolling around instead to eliminate the sound of nails colliding with wood in uneven intervals.

The place felt a tad mellower when Taehyun and Seongwoo weren’t there to rack the decibels up, but plenty of blabbermouths in one spot kept the buzzing weave of voices flowing through the space. At some point Justin had begun braiding Moonbok’s hair and the view was honestly adorable. A lot of the guys were nearing the affectionate stage of the night, where one simply wanted to snuggle into the closest person available and fiddle with a stray lock of hair or a shirt button while rambling on about anything under the skies out of lack of anything to do with their hands. Sewoon was basically Youngmin and Donghyun’s designated beanbag, the two squishing him from either side.

Most of the smokers were sitting near Sungwoon. Their sudden leave left him dully noting all the vacant space in his general vicinity. He opted for looking around the room and dipping a gaze into everyone’s expressions. Seeing all the contentedness soaked in the atmosphere made him feel thankful Taehyun had succeeded in dragging him around like a potato sack for the night. The last stop on his journey of scanning the group was Jaehwan, sitting one chair away from him. He most likely felt Sungwoon’s gaze and turned to face him properly.

“I live with Tweedledum, Tweedledee and the alcohol bender,” Jaehwan motioned to Seongwoo, Daniel and Hyunbin’s seats, “and I’m the only one in the flat who doesn’t smoke. I’m not even fond of the smell. Imagine my life.” He swirled the wine in his glass with a faint smile.

Sungwoon couldn’t quite manage to pull the corners of his mouth up, but he gave Jaehwan a sympathetic shoulder pat. “The things we endure for love…”

Jaehwan snorted. “I manifest my love by leaving all my socks on the floor on Hyunbin’s side of the room, so he can always think of me.” Sungwoon let out a laugh at that. “I’m dubbed the mess of the house but they aren’t flowers either. I once caught Daniel eating cereal for dinner in a shirt that probably hadn’t been washed in a week while watching a rerun of _‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’_. I take no shit from him.” Jaehwan downed the last sips of wine in his glass in one breath. “To keep the train of fun facts rolling: they call themselves the Justice League in a package with Minhyun and Jonghyun because they somehow get laid the most when we go out clubbing, can you _believe_.”

“Jaehwan, I hear you talking shit about the Justice League again.” Apparently Minhyun had sensitive ears. Noted. “How many times do I have to say you’re a part of the package too?”

Jaehwan leaned to dramatically hiss in Sungwoon’s ear. “Ignore those spicy manipulations, they just count me cause I’m the best wingman in this bunch. One time all three of the guys managed to score ladies and bring them home. I got sexiled to Sewoon’s place and the next day I noticed all the alcohol and chocolate in the flat had evaporated and there was a stain on the carpet. Where’s my justice in all of this?”

 

 

Mountains of food and hours of singing and dancing take their toll on a person. Droopy heads and a chain reaction of yawns made their rounds at some point of the night. Nobody had come with the intention of getting drunk, simply taking enough of a sip to get the blood to swirl in pleasant warmth and make conversation flow light and sweet like cotton candy. Another side effect on the list was the sleepiness that came afterwards, however.

“Small ones, poke me when you feel like going. I can give you a ride home,” Jisung said after he noticed Jinyoung almost faceplanting on the table.

“Me too, I haven’t drunk anything, so I can take over delivery duty,” Minhyun added. “I think it’s a good idea for us to scatter, to be honest. I don’t know about everyone but at least half of us have day shifts on Mondays.”

Hyunbin dropped a bill on the bar counter. “Pay up, boys. I may joke about it sometimes but I’m no Jesus yet and the wine doesn’t come from the sink at the back.”

A small money pool grew on the counter, everyone passing by to drop their due before bidding their goodbyes. The room was a mess of hugs and sleepy smiles with promises of seeing eachother through the week flowing by. Seonho almost crushed a few spines with his bear embraces and finished off by glomping Minhyun for a piggyback ride, the two slowly trudging towards Minhyun’s car.

Jihoon and Jinyoung did the Minki bunny hop behind Jisung who had offered to drive them home. Minki was borderline inclined to adopt them after witnessing that. Jihoon claimed shotgun and clambered his way to the front of Jisung’s car, leaving Jinyoung to sprawl himself over the entire back seat. When Jisung ignited the engine Jihoon and Jinyoung quickly recited their addresses and leaned back to enjoy the ride. After the incessant chatter moments prior, the silent drive through the night felt like a revitalizing dip into peace.

Jisung swerved to a road that was parallel with the sea shore. Some boisterous bouts of laughter coming from the beach reached the car occasionally, but mostly the sound of waves melding into sand dominated the soundscape of background noises.

Jinyoung sat up after a while to take a look through the window. The small street lights scattered about didn’t do much to aid one’s sight in the night, yet attempting to follow the bits of colour the car sped by on regular intervals had a soothing effect. “Go for the next left turn, the fourth apartment building is mine.”

“Roger that.” The engine’s roar subsided in front of a regular building entrance, one amongst the many lined on the street. At first glance only the number painted next to the mailboxes seemed different. Jinyoung knew best, though. “Thanks for coming today!” Jisung waved over his shoulder with a smile that did a better job than the street lights at illuminating the street. “Hope the guys didn’t scare you off with the weirder stuff, I promise they can be sweethearts when it counts.” Jinyoung chuckled at that and assured that he was glad he had come along as well. He waved Jisung and Jihoon goodbye before getting swallowed into the dimly lit entrance of his building. Jisung started up the car again and sped up into the general direction of Jihoon’s home.

Jihoon had his elbow propped on the car door windowsill, head rested on his palm. The firefly-like lights of the city night flying by his view barely registered in his mind. His thoughts were swimming through another realm. Jisung was usually a chatterbox and a half; Jihoon appreciated the fleeting blanket of silence over them. Jisung knew how to approach each person’s quirks and extract the best out of an interaction. He was most likely aware that Jihoon wasn’t the most talkative. Clouds began swirling around Jihoon’s pupils.

“You know...” Jihoon began. Jisung hummed in acknowledgement, prompting him to go on.

“I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while.”

 

 

 

“Hey Kenta, what’s the time?” Yongguk chimed from the kitchen.

Kenta laid with his face squished into the couch cushions from the moment Yongguk had unlocked the door to their flat several minutes ago. He simply moved an arm to pat his jean pockets in search for his phone to answer the question properly. When he couldn’t find it after five or six pats, he detached himself from the couch and his moves became a bit more frenzied. Realization struck soon. “Ah fuck.”

“What?” Yongguk poked his head from the kitchen to check on the situation.

“I forgot my phone at the club.”

 

 

“Dude, why are you giggling like a schoolgirl? It’s creepy.” Donghan paid no heed to Sanggyun’s dig and continued tapping off a text. “Wait, isn’t that Kenta’s phone? And how do you know his password, this is just getting more suspicious by the moment.”

Donghan finally turned to look at Sanggyun properly. “Are you kidding me, he literally uses the same password for everything and it’s his favourite idol’s birthday.” He put a hand on Sanggyun’s shoulder. “Now watch and learn. Carelessness has consequences.”

 

 

Eunki’s phone pierced the atmosphere with the buzz of a notification. He fished it out of his pocket to check which sad soul had decided to seek him out in the wee hours of the night. The message promptly made him sputter and trip on a crack in the sidewalk.

Zhengting stopped next to him to arch an eyebrow in question. “Who is it?”

Eunki was looking at his phone like it was about to bite him. “Kenta. Just look at this cause I don’t wanna read it out loud.”

It took Zhengting one glace at the text of “ _Hey babe, your smile is almost as big, warm, and lovely as my dick”_ to begin laughing hysterically with a finger pointed at Eunki’s vexed expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: These are all legitimate cocktail names. My google search history after researching this was a hot mess.
> 
> Not sure if I made it clear enough in the previous chapter, oops, but Donghan and Sanggyun are the club bouncers


	3. Lush Fields

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this yesterday oOPS but better late than even later, amirite
> 
> WANNA ONE GOT THEIR FIRST WIN THOUGH, I'M A PROUD INTERNET MOM

The ancient ritual of dragging Seongwoo out of bed included him changing positions every two minutes until the effort of trying to dodge the sunlight leaking through the curtains became more of a hassle than simply getting up. He wiggled his way out of the sheets to hop onto his morning routine with wobbly legs and droopy eyes. Seongwoo was rather appreciative of the fact that his job was flexible enough to save him from waking up at ungodly hours often enough.

Seongwoo strolled into the kitchen with a hand up his shirt scratching the post-sleep stiffness away to see Jaehwan already perched on the counter with two coffee mugs in hand. His gaze was lost somewhere beyond the window of the room. Seongwoo wordlessly made his way to sit next to him on the counter. Jaehwan easily passed him the second mug without sparing a glance.

“No coffee for Hyunbin? Are you finally acknowledging my special place in your heart?” Seongwoo took a loud sip from his mug.

“Last time I checked, Hyunbin could sleep through a nuke. He’s putting the nearest graveyard to shame.” Jaehwan’s mug was full more than halfway through. His eyes were still roaming outside.

Seongwoo peered at Jaehwan for a couple of minutes to study his expression and play the guessing game. Patience wasn’t one of his strongest assets, unfortunately. “You’re this close to drowning in your thoughts. What’s up?”

Jaehwan lightly swirled the coffee in his mug. “You think Sungwoon would agree to supply us for that snob business associate wedding next week?”

Seongwoo’s pupils widened. “Man, you’ve never stopped catching me off guard. But to be fair, he’d most likely be down for it. Where did that come from?”

Jaehwan nodded lightly, more to himself than to Seongwoo. “You’re going to say I’m way too much of a sentimental asshat, but here’s the deal.” He took a long swig of coffee. “You know I was raised in a religious family, right? Mini-Jaehwan’s Sundays were all sermons and propriety. I sang at some weddings with the church choir. I now realize I’ve maybe lucked out and just seen the prettier side of things, but all the couples that got wed in our local church were the real deal. They were all super giddy over their big day, couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, most of the guests were quietly crying during the oaths and the newlyweds had their own house and kids shortly after. The stuff you see in movies.”

Jaehwan downed the rest of his coffee in one go. “You work with me, you see a lot of the couples we get. The ones that do it on a whim, the ones that do it out of family duty, the ones that do it for citizenship. I could go on for a bit with the list. But nothing on that list has the pure magic that made me awe-struck all those years ago.” Jaehwan hopped off the kitchen counter and headed towards the coffee pot for a refill. “I guess once you’ve seen the bright side, everything else just pales in unintentional comparison. Or I’ve grown up.”

The characteristic sound of liquid slowly pouring into a porcelain mug flooded the kitchen. “We’ve been doing this for a while, I don’t know why I’m suddenly sifting through some long overdue thoughts now. Plus we still get plenty of touching weddings done. I guess those snakes we scheduled for next week just touched a nerve.”

Seongwoo’s coffee had remained untouched since Jaehwan’s first words. “How does Sungwoon tie into all of this?”

“Not much of a conspiracy there, I really did like that lily arrangement from last year. I guess it kinda reminded me of the past.”  Jaehwan pointed the coffee pot at Seongwoo as a way of asking if he wanted a refill, but Seongwoo simply shook his head and quietly sipped on whatever he had left. “It wouldn’t hurt to have something pretty to look at for the night, either. Lord knows the relatives won’t be much better than the bride.” Seongwoo nodded in affirmation at that.

One of the bedroom doors to the side opened to reveal Hyunbin staggering out. What caught Jaehwan and Seongwoo’s eyes in particular was the fact that he was dressed ready to go out already.

“Morning.” Hyunbin made his way straight to Jaehwan to snatch the coffee pot from his hands and got himself a mug from the rickety dish rack near the sink. They were supposed to replace that thing months ago, but the biggest effort the guys had made in the home improvement department so far had been to duct-tape a crack in the living room wall.

“Man you’re fast, I thought you were dead an hour ago.”

“I gladly would’ve stayed dead, but errands are calling.” Jaehwan and Seongwoo realized that Hyunbin had been clutching an envelope that he then left on the kitchen counter to pour his coffee without fucking up. “I want this week to be over already, I’m bitter. I won’t be able to go to the IOI concert this weekend due to work. Boss won’t let us off the hook anymore this month cause we need to compensate for the closed days during the interior rearrangement.” He looked like a kicked puppy while sipping on his coffee. “Daniel ain’t up yet?”

“He’s at work,” Seongwoo supplied. “Jaehwan and I have to go out later too, so shoot a text first if you need something.”

“Noted. Though I’ll probably be hunched over some summer coursework before I have to head out for my shift.”

Seongwoo groaned and leaned back enough for his head to hit the kitchen wall. “Do not mention what must not be mentioned. I want to forget I’m a statistics major for at least a month.” Hyunbin reached forward to pat him in consolation.

With the last drops of coffee disappearing, Hyunbin grabbed the envelope and made his way to the front door. “Lieutenant Kwon – out. See you guys later!”

After waving Hyunbin goodbye, Jaehwan and Seongwoo did not move an inch from the counter, despite both being aware that they probably had tasks to attend to as well.

Jaehwan yanked the veil of silence off. “How did you even get to know Sungwoon? You guys looked close.”

“We went to the same high school, we were both in the choir. Mutual friends led to occasionally hanging out together.”

 “So that’s why his voice was so stable!” Jaehwan clapped a hand on his thigh in realization. “Explains a lot.”

Seongwoo nodded. “We kind of lost touch after graduating, but we got back on track when he came to work here. He’s a pretty great guy, I’ll try to drag him along to some guys’ nights out with us.” He drained his mug with a long swig. “I’ll call him to ask about supplying flowers for next week. On that note, we should probably get going. I’ll contact the catering team and you check up the decors.”

Jaehwan had a question or two more hanging off the tip of his tongue, but he complied and got up to wash all the mugs. “If you end up shit-talking someone for messing up a delivery again, you’ll be washing the dishes for a whole week.”

 

 

 

“I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while.”

Jihoon turned his head to take a proper glance at Jisung. “Do you have a trick to the way everyone just ends up loving you? For all the time I’ve known you, the only people I can recall talking shit your way had issues. Even now before we left someone literally tripped while trying to get to you to hug you goodbye. You damn well deserve it, that’s not what I’m implying, but with how screwed up the world is, it’s almost too good to be true.”

Jisung kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t keep a small smile from creeping up his face. “Have I told you what I do when it’s not summer and I don’t get teenage girls trying to make me ask the crystal ball whether their crush likes them back?” Jihoon shook his head. “I’m an elementary school teacher,” Jisung chuckled. “Applying your question to my case in particular, you can say my job gives me an advantage. Adults really aren’t that much different from children, they need the same amount of care and affection to unfold their potential. It’s just that love manifests differently the more you grow up.”

Jihoon didn’t notice the car had reached a red light. When Jisung stopped, he returned Jihoon’s gaze. “So that’s most likely it for me. The kids in my classes are amazing. I’ve learned more from a horde of seven year olds than from any other experience in my life.  But…” Jisung craned his neck to get a better view of the traffic light. “I assume your question is a bit deeper than that, isn’t it?”

Jihoon hoped the way blood rushed to his ears was noticeable only to him. He took his elbow off the windowsill and folded his hands in his lap.

Green light. Jisung smoothly sped up the road with the calmness of a person with no destination in mind. “In general… This will probably sound like the most generic piece of advice, but it’s the hardest to uphold. Be honest. Both to yourself and to those around you.” Jisung drummed his fingers on the steering for a fraction of time, contemplating his next words. “Passion and emotional impact are directly proportional. If you detach yourself from your beliefs to give someone only what they want to see, they’ll likely end up with rather shallow memories. Actions are replaceable, people are not. Just be a bit selfish for your own good. If you want to stay with someone, stick yourself into their life with all your jagged truths. Honesty is thicker than the skin and people feel it.”

Jihoon stood still. He hadn’t lifted his gaze up from his lap, but he felt they were close to his home by the way the car gradually slowed down. Jisung pulled up to the curb of the building he had been instructed to drive to and silenced the engine. He turned to look at Jihoon and froze in bewilderment when he saw his shoulders shaking. Jisung’s hand twitched with the need to envelop Jihoon in an embrace, but stopped once he heard giggles spilling past the boy’s lips. Jihoon threw his head back and progressively lapsed into full-on laughter that died out just as suddenly as it had appeared.

“I can’t believe I got a more profound life lesson in a thirty minute car ride than in all my years of school.” Jihoon unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, poking his head in through the open window on the passenger side and propping himself on the windowsill. “I should come around to your place to get my future checked some time.”

Jisung laughed heartily at the remark. “I started bringing tea in the parlor now cause of Moonbok, so you’re honestly welcome at any time. If you feel like talking, you know I’m always available, right?”

“I know.” Jihoon made a salute gesture with a smirk. “And I appreciate it.” He got his hands off the car to stroll to his building.

 

 

 

“So you two are the club bouncers, right?” Sanggyun and Donghan nodded simultaneously. “How often do you get into fights?”

“Oh, tiny one, if we have to resort to fighting, that means we’ve done a shit job to begin with.” Sanggyun went to headlock Justin and ruffle his hair. “We kinda get paid to prevent fights.”

Justin slid out of Sanggyun’s arms and fixed his bangs with a huff. “That was sort of a cool quote but I’m let down nonetheless.”

Donghan threw an oreo in the air and caught it with his mouth. After a brief victory wiggle in the bean bag he was occupying, he decided to give his two cents. “That’s around 80% of the reason, but the other side of it is that Sanggyun is a closeted softie. He throws some real mean stares and they generally work, but on good moods he wouldn’t punch a teddy bear.” Sanggyun attempted to evaporate Donghan with a glare. “Ah, there it is, that’s what I was talking about. But we do get into minor scuffles every couple of days, it’s just fortunate that drunk people can’t fight for shit. Plus we’re trained for this, so the more rebellious ones usually end up on the floor after a move or two. “

Sanggyun went on a whole nostalgia trip on the couch. “Remember that time an old lesbian couple tried to bash Hyunbin over the head with a champagne bottle? Good times.”

“Teach me a move!” Justin pranced to where Donghan was sitting.

Five minutes later, Taehyun pushed the door to the hotel staff room open with his foot, his arms too busy cradling a stack of beer, arriving to the view of Donghan holding Justin in a judo joint lock on the floor. The kid’s face was red from putting in effort to escape, but Donghan was just cracking up at the attempts and moving accordingly to keep his hold firm.

“I don't kink shame. Carry on, boys,” Taehyun felt the need to state before heading to load the mini-fridge. Donghan reached to throw an oreo at him.

Shortly after, Minhyun also found himself in the room, almost tripping over the human pretzel on the floor. He simply side-stepped them with a sigh, letting this go as one of the tamer events to have occurred during breaks. “Hi, guys.”

A chorus of _Hi_ ’s followed Minhyun to the coffee machine. “Found anything gross in any room so far?” Sanggyun asked.

“Fate is merciful today. Just cigarette burns on some sheets and a vodka stain on a wall. Weekend aftermaths are usually wilder.” Minhyun plopped on the couch with a cappuccino salvation in hand. He probably needed to drop by Jihoon and Jinyoung’s afterwards to restock on sugar and cream. “It’s pretty rare for you guys to pop in so early on in the day, though. Anything going on?”

“We’re waiting for Taedong to get off his shift to kidnap him. Donghan roped us into some art shit.” Taehyun pointed at him with a beer can. “Donghan, explain your art shit.”

Donghan got off of Justin to finally let him live and returned to his designated seat on the bean bag. Justin remained sprawled on the floor with the grace of a potato sack. “I enrolled in an acting school recently and I got a sort of summer project to make a short film. They agreed to be my production and co-star crew.”

“In this case “ _agree_ ” refers to “ _we were bribed with food_ ”, but yes, we’re his crew. We’re gonna drive to some forgotten by god place outside of town to get them aesthetic shots, so if we don’t come back, you know who to request an investigation against.” Donghan was out of oreos to throw, so he settled for a glare in Sanggyun’s direction.

“If I die, Sungwoon won’t have anybody knocking on his door at 1am with pizza and a pack of Marlboros. Think of the poor boy’s future,” Taehyun reasoned. Minhyun took a long look at Taehyun after the remark.

“Knocking on his door? Didn’t you say you had to climb up to his window once to avoid his neighbor or something?” While Taehyun was attempting to shush Donghan, Minhyun stood up from the couch to put his cappuccino cup aside. He went over to Taehyun to tap him on the arm and gesture towards the door. Taehyun got the hint and he followed Minhyun out of the staff room into the corridor slightly before the lobby.

“Is this the part where I get interrogated by the main character?”

“Lay off the Criminal Minds marathons. But I have been keeping a question since yesterday night.”

“Mind starting this outside? I wanna take a smoke while we’re at it. It’ll look more thematically appropriate that way too - the characters slowly recollecting life in between puffs.” Minhyun snorted, but he did indeed head towards the exit leading to the hotel patio.

The two sat on a bench overlooking the back garden. The gardener was tending to the decorative bushes lining the area, possibly praying he didn’t find anything questionable amidst them in the meanwhile. His job could honestly cross paths with Minhyun’s in terms of the guests’ bad nightly decisions.

A flick of his Zippo later, Taehyun exhaled a bitter gray breath. “Fuck Lord of the Rings, man. After seeing Gandalf huff out a whole smoke ship I can never feel cool enough.” Ash. Inhale. Repeat. “I’m all ears now, spill.”

 “It’s about Sungwoon.” Minhyun crossed his ankles absent-mindedly beneath the bench. “Before we all got to the club, you requested for nobody to question him about why he couldn’t make it last year or about his love life. You feel where this is going – I wanted to ask why. And before you possibly cut off conversation by claiming it’s none of my business, it became such the moment you wanted that favour from us. I don’t want to play God, but if he has special circumstances, I can say there’s much less of a chance of somebody fucking up around him if we’re aware.”

Taehyun took a rather long drag of his cigarette. The following gust of smoke was snaking its way through the air, noticeably slower and thicker than the last.

“You don’t have to worry about him snapping or anything. Thank fuck he doesn’t have any scars, just a fresh wound. I was going to tell you eventually, to be honest, but I appreciate you asking.” Taehyun flicked the Zippo on and off periodically. “He had a girlfriend for... almost three years, if my memory isn’t screwing with me. They even moved in with each other at one point. Sungwoon really cherished her. I used to think she deserved it, too, until he caught her in their bed with another guy, that is. The rest is history.” Ash. Inhale. Repeat.

“I wanted to bring him over and introduce him to you guys last year, but her birthday was on the same day as our get-together. They broke up a couple of months after that. He had a bit of a recluse recovery period, Seongwoo and I are on a holy mission to poke him out of his shell. It’s been working pretty well so far, honestly, he acted like an ass to me for dragging him along last night, but the little shit had fun. Everything I mentioned isn’t so far back in the past, so I think you understand why I wanted to avoid anything that could screw up progress.”

Minhyun uncrossed his ankles and stretched his legs out. “I got one thing out of all of this.”

“What might that be?”

Minhyun clapped a hand on Taehyun’s shoulder with a grin. “You’re not half-bad as a friend.”

Taehyun had a boisterous laugh at that. “Finally, the recognition I’ve been waiting for. Now I know nothing’s in vain.” He stubbed what was left of his cigarette on the side of the bench and shot it at the nearest trash can. “Let’s head back before Donghan decides I’m lost and runs around asking people if they’ve seen a midget with a stank eye. _Again._ ”

 

 

 

“I spy with my little eye someone who can’t take the cold too well.”

Youngmin quickly scanned the dining hall, eyes flitting from guest to guest.

“Table 7. The man with long hair.”

Donghyun let out an impressed whistle. “Correct. Reason?”

“Table 7 is farthest from any open windows or doors, so no breeze. Alongside that, there’s a hoodie sleeve poking out from an opening in his backpack. He also periodically rubs his forearms, probably goosebumps.”

“I didn’t even notice the goosebumps thing, you’re good at this.” Donghyun nodded his head with a smirk. “Your turn now.”

Youngmin’s gaze dashed through the room once more to locate a target. “I spy with my little eye someone who dislikes carrots.”

Donghyun bit his lower lip in concentration as he took the time to give all present guests a once-over. “Table 11. The girl with braided hair.”

“Correct,” Youngmin cracked a smile. “Reason?”

“You know how people say that when you eat lots of carrots you turn orange? She seems rather pale. Plus the glasses, those are kind of obvious.”

“Jesus Christ Donghyun, she literally just pushed the carrots from her curry into her friend’s plate.”

“Oh, fuck outta here.”

“Man, you psychology majors are intense.” Donghyun and Youngmin flinched in surprise at the sudden voice coming from behind them, but calmed their heartbeats down once they let it sink in that it was just Sewoon.

Donghyun had a hand over his chest. “You materializing out of thin air is cool sometimes, but my heart demands an insurance.”

Sewoon shrugged. “Your thin air is five steps away from the kitchen doors, I admit to no guilt here. Anyway, I’m thinking of baking muffins for movie night tonight and I went out to ask what you guys want in yours.”

Donghyun threw his arms in the air in excitement. “Raisins!”

“I’m okay with anything you cook, really. Feel free to go wild,” Youngmin added.

“Noted. Alright, back to work, I don’t want to relive that time Euiwoong was about to scalp us cause we were playing chopsticks in the kitchen during a shift.”

Just as Sewoon turned on his heels to walk away, Youngmin grabbed him by the wrist. “Ah, wait! Your apron is about to come undone.”

Donghyun silently observed Youngmin tie Sewoon’s apron and carefully smooth out its creases with deft fingers and a concentrated pout. When Sewoon thanked him with a faint smile and vanished from sight behind the kitchen doors, Youngmin was practically glowing.

 _I spy with my little eye a lovesick fool,_ is what Donghyun didn’t say out loud.

 

 

 

It was slowly becoming routine. Clock in, fetch the binder with all the numbers, numbers, numbers, and nestle in the corner on the reception desk next to Hyeongseop. Routine is one thing this arrangement shouldn’t have become, since it was only conceived as a way to ease Hyeongseop into his position. Frankly, Euiwoong wasn’t needed much in terms of assistance. He only butted in twice or thrice per day on average to provide some information to the guests the receptionist hadn’t yet become accustomed to.

He had voiced his thoughts on the matter, saying he didn’t really have a reason to stay on the desk any more, but Hyeongseop had firmly stated his presence was calming and appreciated. Euiwoong didn’t know why he allowed casual words from a new employee to influence his work practices. He didn’t dwell on it, either, simply heading towards the reception with his binder in hand.

The lobby was relatively empty. Hyeongseop was fervently writing in a thick notebook. The concentration with which he jotted down squiggle after squiggle allowed Euiwoong to slide behind him and jab him in the side, making him jump in his chair with a scandalized expression. “I’m going to pass out at the age of 30 because of you.”

Euiwoong evil-laughed on the way to his chair. “What were you writing?”

“Oh, I’m writing a story. I had some plot bunnies hop in my head on the way to work and I’m noting them down before I forget.” Hyeongseop resumed his furious scribbles.

Curiosity struck Euiwoong. “You write?”

“Yep!” Hyeongseop nodded enthusiastically, “For now it’s just a hobby, but I want to major in Creative Writing after I graduate.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Euiwoong leaned on the desk, pillowing his head on his arms to face Hyeongseop comfortably. “I find it kind of refreshing you write by hand. Most people I know don’t bother with anything beyond a laptop.”

“Ah, if it’s something drier like an assignments or a report in a publicistic style, I do in on a computer to save time too. But for stories or poems I write in my free time, I just prefer a notebook. You feel more attached to what you create, somehow, when you feel it just flow under your bare hand. Regardless of the medium, though, I try to write at least a thousand words per day to keep myself in shape.” He was rambling on with such excitement it would’ve taken Euiwoong legitimate effort to refrain from cracking a smile.

“What’s this story about?”

 “Ah...” Hyeongseop scratched the nape of his neck with a bashful pout. “It’s a romance. I’m on a sort of mushy wave like that recently. The basic gist is that it’s in a medieval setting, where two neighbouring kingdoms are hostile towards each other, but the sons of both royal families want to cease unnecessary bloodshed and just... fall in love along the way?” He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Oh god, it’s embarrassing saying it out loud like this.”

Effort did not aid Euiwoong in withholding his chuckles. “Don’t be like that, it sounds cute. I’m surprised you decided to go for a same-sex couple, too.”

Euiwoong slightly craned his neck to see better and sure enough, Hyeongseop’s ears were red. “Representation matters. If I’m not going to see variety in media, then I’m better off making it myself.” Hyeongseop seemingly recovered from the dip in bashfulness and straightened his back a bit. “That aside, I’m struggling a bit currently. My characters aren’t falling in love as easily as I expected them to.”

“They aren’t?” Euiwoong raised an eyebrow at the choice of words. “You’re the one that creates them, can’t you whip out a plot twist and just... write out a relationship?”

“It wouldn’t work like that,” Hyeongseop shook his head gently. “Characters are like babies – you only give them the basics they need to stand on their feet and watch them grow in their own unique way. I make their circumstances, but if I force them onto a narrow road of plans, they wouldn’t really tell a story, they’d just go through motions.”

Euiwoong wasn’t big on ideas such as fate or sentimentality. A thought struck him, though, that this particular conversation would most likely turn into one of those memories of everyday life he’d file into the corner of his mind reserved for sleepless late night contemplations.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know?” Hyeongseop looked shocked at the sudden statement aimed his way. “Just had to put that out there. You look like you have a gift for this. If I had even half of your passion towards something, I probably would’ve been less bitter in general.”

“But Woong...” Hyeongseop cocked his head to the side in mild confusion. “You seem miles ahead of me already.” It was Euiwoong’s turn to be clouded in scepticism. His expression most likely showed as much, seeing as Hyeongseop felt prompted to elaborate. “You’re currently the youngest staff member, yet you get to be an administrator and take partial responsibility over other employees. Didn’t you mention you were a student council president too? That means your grades are probably the stuff of dreams. Also don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way some guests peer at you while at the desk, your face isn’t anything to scoff at. You’re literally the last person I expected that from.”

Several emotions ran in a current through Euiwoong, but he settled on cold resignation in the end. “Remember how on your first day I told you my position is not as great as it seems?” Hyeongseop nodded gingerly. “My dad’s the hotel owner. That’s the only reason I’m standing here now. Not much of a professional credential.”

Euiwoong half-expected Hyeongseop’s lips to form a small _“o”_ in realization and for the receptionist to subsequently bury the conversation in a ditch of awkwardness and stiff silence. What flooded his senses instead was laughter. Pure, unadulterated laughter crossing a pearly white smile. Euiwoong received his weekly dose of surprises over the span of a single conversation.

“Why would someone who has run a successful hotel for years make the basic blunder of hiring an inexperienced relative for the sake of it? Give your dad a bit more credit. And if you find that logic too flimsy, you can see it in the way the guys working here treat you. Minhyun and Youngmin in particular come to mind, they’re both super responsible and look like they should be running some sort of business of their own, but here they nod and listen to you well.  The staff really are fond of you.”

Euiwoong’s mind short-circuited. He couldn’t piece together any rebuttal and simply remained laid on the desk. Hyeongseop accepted that reaction as a victory on his side, his smile not leaving him. “I do appreciate the compliment. Just don’t be so hard on yourself.”

In some rare occurrence of the universe’s sense of proper timing, Woojin popped out of a corner of the lobby to head over to the reception desk. “Seop, can you fetch me the master keycard? Some ditz lost his in the pool drain.”

“Knowing my luck, that sounds like something that would happen to me too.” Hyeongseop rummaged a couple of drawers until he found the item in question and stood up to join Woojin. Before disappearing from earshot, he turned to face the desk. “Oh, yeah, Woong?” Euiwoong lifted his head from his arms to take a proper look at Hyeongseop. “I forgot to thank you for inviting me last night! I had a blast!” He then followed Woojin out of the lobby, taking that pearly smile out of sight as well.

Euiwoong’s gaze lingered where Hyeongseop had stood moments ago for a bit longer before he faceplanted on the desk. The guy hadn’t even been employed for two weeks, yet he had already shattered Euwioong’s composure in smithereens.

 

 

 

Jonghyun crawled out of his dim bedroom looking like a mess on legs. It seemed as if his hair was running away from him, sticking out in every direction of the world. His pyjama pants were inside-out, but that wasn’t a fairly rare offence. His first destination was the kitchen cupboard where the coffee stash was kept.

“Gamed till late at night again?” Minki was already sat at the kitchen table with a mug in hand. Jonghyun slowly nodded to the question, making him snort. “It’s okay, we all have our demons.”

Jonghyun later flopped in a chair across Minki with a light swirl of steam trailing from the cup in his hands that had _World's Greatest Dad_ written over it. “Who even bought you that mug, it’s killing me how accurate it is.”

“Jaehwan. He sent it to me for Christmas alongside a letter claiming the holiday was ruined for him if I wasn’t there to bake cookies with him and read him bedtime stories. He may or may not have been drunk while writing that, if the shit handwriting was anything to go by, but we’ll never know.”

“I aspire to be that wholesome while drunk, honestly,” Minki noted with a pout. “Wait, speaking of letters, there was an envelope addressed to you stuck in the door crack when I got home. It doesn’t have a sender name or anything. Kinda shady.” He went to pick something up from the living room table and returned with said envelope in hand.

Jonghyun jostled his still sleepy mind to think of who could have possibly sent him something like that. He slowly ripped it open only to pull out a wad of cash from inside. Jonghyun noticed there was a letter in there as well and set the money aside on the table for Minki to grab and eagerly count.

_“This is the left-over cash from the money pool at the party. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but it’s not nothing, either. I know that if I tried to give it to you in person you’d refuse, so ta-dah. I want to help, even if by a bit. I wish her a speedy recovery and all the best._

_Your favourite and tallest son,_

_Hyunbin”_

Jonghyun stared at the slip of paper dumbfounded for a minute or so until he dissolved into laughter. Scratchy from sleep, but honest up till the very last sound.

 

 

 

The front tire dug into another hole in the road. The whole vehicle alongside everything and everyone in it rebounded with a disturbing amount of force.

The box of camera equipment Sanggyun was holding in his lap jumped up and fell back on him. “I think my balls just switched places,” he croaked out hoarsely.

Everyone in the car were groaning through the recreation of a war bombing going on after every bump on the road, sans Donghan, who had claimed shotgun to be able to be the lord of the radio. He switched between every available pop station and sang along loudly, amping up the volume even more after Taedong threw an air freshener at the back of his neck in an attempt to shut him up.

Taehyun was gripping the steering wheel for dear life. “Donghan, are you legitimately leading us to our deaths? Is this because of that one time we put Thai sauce in your birthday cake?”

“I actually forgot about that, but thanks for reminding me to seek revenge. Seriously though, the GPS location should be legit. I found an article about some real cool abandoned amusement park that should be at the end of the road. The camera shots are gonna be lit.” Donghan tried to hit a high note that came up in the current song on the radio. Taehyun had half a mind to deliberately drive into the nearest hole in the road to get him to bite his tongue.

“You’re literally telling me we’re on this forgotten by the universe road because of a dingy internet post, with no idea how the final destination actually is.” Yongguk sounded like his soul had long departed. Another bump in the road. Another round of everything in the car launching into zero gravity mode and Sanggyun heaving at impact with his lower regions.

“Kenta just texted me asking where we’re going to be,” Taedong mentioned.  “He said he could fetch Eunki and come dick around with us after they get off work. What do I reply?”

“Even mister actor over here has no idea in which ditch of the world we are, good luck with that.” Taehyun did an abrupt swerve to the side to dodge a hole, making the trio in the back seat fly together into a human taco.

“We’re on the way to an adventure, of course!” Donghan chirped with a sunny smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing with an old lesbian couple bashing a barman over the head with a bottle is a real life story, summer resorts are intense man
> 
> Are my descriptions too extra? Do you guys get distracted during conversations when I try to show what each person is doing? Feedback makes the heart grow fonder.
> 
> The next few chapters may take a biiit longer to post since I've planned for more stuff to happen in them, so they'll probably be longer. Shit is gonna get deeper, prepare yourselves.


	4. Shells of Habit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another episode of "why do I always upload new chapters after 3am", a spin-off series of "I was supposed to write something sad but my fingers slipped"
> 
> But have you seen [the teasers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bn83iS_jUEk) for Sewoon's solo debut because I've been on the floor ever since they dropped

“Jihoon, pass me the box of bacon yoghurt.”

“Did I mishear or did you really just say bacon yoghurt?” Jihoon peeked into the box in question. “Oh my God this really says bacon yoghurt. We work in a shop that offers bacon yoghurt, Jinyoung, why are you not scandalized over this?” He passed Jinyoung the box while holding it as further away from his torso as he could, as if the cardboard could bite him.

Jinyoung firmly grabbed the box and began pacing towards the storage room to put it in its designated corner. “One of my cousins eats oranges with garlic. I've been desensitized,” he explained over his shoulder.

The store had a huge product delivery done around the same time each week. Jihoon honestly welcomed the grain of variety in his schedule, since standing behind the cash register for hours on end was fundamentally a summoning ritual for all sorts of cramps and soreness. Due to the supplier’s tight schedule (or the fact that he just couldn't be assed to move around much, the boys would never know), he only had enough time to drop off all the negotiated boxed in front of the back door to the storage room, leaving Jinyoung and Jihoon to walk back and forth with armfuls of foodstuffs like ants.

After dropping one of many boxes in a more suitable spot, Jihoon wiped the light sheen of sweat on his forehead off with the hem of his shirt and stole a glance at his watch. “Jinyoung, we're on break now!” he shouted in the direction of the back door.

Jinyoung popped his head inside to reply properly. “I’m not really tired, to be honest. I’ll probably start stocking some shelves inside and get this done with.”

“Sadly, I'm a weakling. I'm heading outside. Have fun, though.” Jihoon gave Jinyoung a salute and turned to stroll through the door from the storage room to the shop. While waddling through the aisles, he heard the tell-tale sound of the store's front entrance opening. Jihoon tried to think of an acceptable way of telling the poor soul at the front that he really couldn't make himself give a damn while on break, but chucked the mental draft away once he saw Daehwi pacing around the cash registers.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here.” Daehwi got a bit startled and faltered in his steps at the sudden voice reaching him, but immediately dived for a hug once he recognized Jihoon.

“I didn't think I'd catch you on my first time dropping by. Talk about luck.”

Jihoon ruffled Daehwi's hair. “Jinyoung's on shift now too, I really need your sense of timing. What got you all the way here, though, don't you live in the ass crack of geography on literally the other side of the city?”

“I was with Muel at the arcade until he had to head over to his job. Figured I'd stock up on junk on the way home, since the kitchen cupboards are catching dust.” Daehwi pulled his signature puppy pout. “Gunhee and Hwanwoong are human vacuums, yet they still stay like a broomstick and a bean respectively.”

Jihoon’s gaze instinctively shot up towards the clock in the shop. “Well, we're on break now, to be honest, but I can work some cashier magic for you.”

“Bullshit, Park Jihoon, you're not taking time out of your break for me!” Daehwi attempted a glare and Jihoon decided not to tell him that he was the least threatening human with those pinchable cheeks. “I can just wait, really. Where's Jinyoung? I wanna say hi to him too.”

Jihoon pointed with a thumb over his shoulder. “The storage room door, you’ll see it after a few aisles. As the oldest here I give you my royal permission to bug him. I’m heading out for a bit.” The two exchanged waves before Daehwi disappeared behind rows upon rows of products. After the younger was out of sight, Jihoon snuck out of the store with light steps, sighing at the lack of a breeze outside.

His usual route led him not too far down the street to a small gazebo huddled in the shadow of an apartment building. Jihoon stretched his legs out on the bench underneath the shade and officially started his break by cracking every joint he could. He took a small box out of one of his pockets and ripped off its plastic casing with rough motions. A single cigarette found itself between calloused fingers, cradled between slightly chapped lips, basking in the kiss of a lighter.

The first inhale was a familiar sting to the high-strung senses. The way the thin veils of smoke wavered in the humid summer air was an addicting view. History had a tendency to repeat itself, however. Jihoon tried to thread his fingers through the grey wisps dancing in his vicinity, thus making them subside into nothingness. Pretty things never lasted too long. Maybe that's why they tasted so bitter.

„Hey!“

Jihoon almost fell off of the bench at the sudden greeting that crept up from behind him. He sat up properly with a couple of coughs and turned to face Guanlin settling under the gazebo's shelter across from him.

„I spent some time staring and wondering if it was you, but you're pretty distinct after all.“ The warmth of Guanlin‘s smile comically contradicted the way Jihoon's hand holding the cigarette froze. Jihoon's mind was roaming through a list of possible courses of action like a visual novel character.

„Ah, hi.“ Jihoon brushed his bangs back to disperse any remnants of the earlier shock. Playing it casual was a tested and safe route, one with a low failure rate. “On break from work?”

“Kind of but not really,” Guanlin scrunched his nose at the mention of work. “Some lady came into the pizzeria and started shouting about how it was a crime that we didn't send soy sauce with her order, even though literally nothing in our menu mentions it. For real though - soy sauce on pizza, man, who does that?” The poor boy looked petrified. “The boss kind of just sent me to the store to get some to avoid conflict. I saw you on the way.”

“You know what the sad part is?” A corner of Jihoon’s mouth went up. “This is one of the more normal customer stories around here.”

Giggles flowed out of Guanlin in waves. “True. But I wouldn't call it sad. Makes for great conversations at get-togethers afterwards.” Jihoon had to nod in agreement at that. “How about you? Lunch break?”

“Yeah, felt like going out for fresh air.” Jihoon decided to ignore the discrepancy between his statement and the smoke-billowing cancer stick in his hand before the cringe choked him.

Guanlin’s gaze fell to the cigarette for the first time since he’d sat on the bench across from Jihoon. Jihoon hadn't even ashed it. Its end was slowly decaying and scattering away into the summer with no particular direction. Jihoon was a breath away from starting some simple topic that would take them both far away from the present, yet a self-destructive nook of his mind kept his words shut away.

“So that's why you were nervous back there at the club,” Guanlin muttered absent-mindedly.

Jihoon blinked in confusion. “Pardon?”

“Oh, did I think out loud again? Oops.” Guanlin sheepishly scratched his nape. “I just suddenly remembered how you were fidgeting that night while some of the guys were out for a smoke. The realization kinda hit me now,” he motioned towards Jihoon to get his point across.

“Ah, you really did ask me if everything was fine back then,” Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Guess I'm not really subtle. Also, sorry about this,” the boy carded his fingers through a string of smoke for emphasis, “I could put it out if it's botheri-“

“Nah, don't, I wouldn’t rain on your parade like that,” Guanlin nonchalantly waved a hand to dismiss the offer. “You’ve probably been waiting your whole shift to light one up. Plus this one doesn't smell bad, what is it?”

“Dunhill mints,” Jihoon replied before taking a drag.

“Flavoured ones do often smell better,” Guanlin nodded to himself. He let his eyes slide down the ropes of mist pouring out of Jihoon's lips. “Why didn't you go out with Daniel and the rest back then if you knew you'd get nervous, though? Seongwoo was basically a shady back alley lighter dealer and someone would've lent you a cigarette anyway.”

Jihoon pushed our whatever smoke was left in his mouth in one swift huff. “Honestly, I haven't really told anyone I smoke. The general stigma about this is surprisingly pretty intense. I don't think even Jinyoung has realized, and the doofus spends more time with me on shifts than I do with my family.”

“You think the guys would judge?”

Fluid conversations weren't Jihoon's forte, but he found that Guanlin's company and endless questions weren't at all unwelcome. “I’m almost ready to bet most of the guys wouldn't care. I'm a legal adult already, for God's sake. Someone would probably even get me a shitty lighter from the corner store for the heck of it. I know that. But I'm just...” Jihoon grasped for proper words, “way too deep into some habits.”

Guanlin’s eyes were constellations of curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

A famous cartoon trope is when a character is trying to power through a dilemma and suddenly envisions mini replicas of an angel and a devil on either shoulder, each trying to give their two cents on the situation. Jihoon just had tiny copies of Jisung clambering over his head, echoing pieces of quotes from a particular car ride several nights ago.

Jihoon slouched forward until he could prop his elbows on his knees. “I’ve always disliked conflicts, so to avoid unnecessary mess, I try to keep to myself. Don’t stick into other people's business, don’t share anything generally controversial. The tactic apparently works, since I don't remember being on particularly bad terms with anybody.” A piece of Jihoon's conscience was painfully aware he was rambling off to a boy he hadn't known for very long at all.

That part was, however, a minority. His mouth had simply decided to follow the inertia and plunge into the rabbit hole full-speed. “Saying it out loud like this, I realize I'm just selfish, but each side wins in the end – people don't have to deal with my issues, I don't have to deal with other people's dissatisfaction at my questionable life choices. It works.”

Jihoon took a languid drag from his cigarette, sighing out a curtain of smoke with closed eyes. “I just dished out an entire emo monologue on you, didn't I?” His free hand went to rub his temples. “Bloody hell...”

Guanlin had calmly listened to every word, intentional or not, that had spilled out of the boy in front of him with an unwavering gaze. A surge of regret washed over Jihoon. He was ready to lie that his break was over and fiercely backpedal away from the situation, if only to escape Guanlin's clear eyes and the embarrassment in which they made his cheeks burn pink.

“You’re not selfish.” The simple short sentence stopped Jihoon mid-way to stubbing whatever was left of his mostly neglected cigarette into the bench and running away. “The distance you keep obviously isn't for your sake if it makes you feel so uncomfortable. I think you're just trying to make people happy the wrong way.”

Guanlin’s assessment affected Jihoon’s nerves like a cold shower. The flame in his cheeks had promptly dissipated. “I wouldn't find it much more comfortable knowing some people would still stay away due to finding a part of me distasteful instead.” Jihoon inwardly winced at how snappy his words came out, but stood by them nonetheless.

“Isn't it unfair of you to instantly assume people can't live through a flaw or two of yours?” When he noticed Jihoon seemed ready to argue, Guanlin rushed out the rest of what he had on his mind. “Sure, some people would turn their back on you if you so much as breathe the wrong way, but they’re just beyond salvation, don't sell everyone so cheap. You'd be surprised at the response if you just give those around you a chance.” Guanlin had one of those soft smiles on. The type of softness one would display in front of a frightened critter.

The firmness in Jihoon’s expression began gradually slipping away. He sat quiet, attempting to assimilate the whole conversation. The silence was promptly cut off when a sudden stinging sensation on his fingers made him yelp. It then struck him that his cigarette had simply burned out while left unattended.  A fit of giggles from Guanlin interrupted Jihoon’s overly offended glare at the ash dusting his hand.

It should've been ridiculous how calm he felt at that moment under the gazebo on a humid summer day with a giggly mess sitting across from him. Jihoon brushed off that thought with the conclusion that he should really stop cock-blocking his own happiness. The view of Guanlin looking gleeful as hell on the opposite bench, coupled with the sound of his laugh, was somehow a more effective contribution to this epiphany than any amount of words could have been. “You're pretty good at this whole cheering up schtick.”

“Thanks,” Guanlin replied once his amusement dwindled, “being class representative and mediating tons of arguments tend to do that to a person.”

Jihoon found himself easily mirroring Guanlin’s mirth. Those gummy smiles were more infectious than yawns. Something began nipping at the back of his mind, though.

“Wait, Guanlin. Didn’t you say your boss sent you on an errand? Aren’t you supposed to go back soon?”

Guanlin’s smile abruptly fell. “Oh shit.”

 

 

 

_Exam season was never fun for anybody. For the student council, where that exact slice of time also meant extra responsibilities – even less so. Youngmin felt like flinging approximately a dozen people out of a window on a daily basis. A demon he hadn’t quite managed to fight out of himself was the tendency for his stress to snowball and manifest as open aggravation. Youngmin did feel guilty that Sewoon had to sit across from him during lunch and see him passive-aggressively impaling his food, but he couldn’t help his exasperation at not being able to juggle his workloads as smoothly as he’d anticipated._

_First period after lunch was a free period for Youngmin’s class. The student council vice-president title hanging off his name anchored him to the school grounds, however. One point off of the list of his duties stated that he had to occasionally patrol around campus and “sustain peace”. Simply said – apprehend douches. It was an unspoken deal with the council that as long as you weren’t a prick about it, you could get away with minor offences, thus making his job slightly more tolerable, but significantly less thrilling in exchange._

_Youngmin trudged towards the library in the hopes of slacking unnoticed for at least ten minutes in tranquility. Approaching his destination, though, he briefly registered movement at the far end of the hallway. Someone was walking towards the library as well. The person most likely heard Youngmin’s footsteps echo through the empty hallway, turning to face him. As soon as they took a proper look at the vice prez, though, they began running towards the closest staircase with determination._

_Two realizations made Youngmin gape and chase after the figure in a flurry. First – that particular staircase at the quietest corner of the school led to the building’s roof. Students were barred from going out there, which automatically meant Youngmin was expected to intercept any attempts at intrusion. Second – that particular body frame and tuft of hair – Youngmin would’ve guessed that was Sewoon even with his senses dulled._

_Youngmin took two steps at a time, his thoughts running at a higher velocity than him. He finally caught up to Sewoon on the last flight of stairs in front of the door to the expanse of the roof. The two stopped abruptly to lean on the railing and catch their breaths through loud huffs. After getting some of the strength in his knees back, Youngmin found it in himself to straighten his posture a bit and turn to Sewoon. “Why the fuck did you run after seeing me?”_

_Sewoon let go of the railing and took the last few steps to the door. He grabbed the handle with a smile. “Because I knew you’d follow me.”_

_A cool gust of wind engulfed the two boys as soon as the door creaked open, revealing an empty open space lined by a metal railing. ”We seriously aren’t supposed to be up here,” Youngmin uttered blankly, throwing any irony down the stairs behind his back as he followed Sewoon outside._

_The view was a candid city beauty, trees nestled between the many buildings sprouting just outside of campus grounds. Splashes of an autumn palette graced the scenery with leaves of all colours bleeding into the gray landscape. Sewoon grasped Youngmin by the wrist and led him closer to the edge of the roof._

_“I don’t like seeing you upset.”  Sewoon slung an arm over Youngmin’s shoulders. His free hand went to lay hold of the roof’s railing. “You overthink often. When the negative thoughts get to you, just remember that there’s so much more waiting for you outside the box. You’re capable of a lot and I won’t let you forget that.”_

_A faint chill crawled under Youngmin’s skin that had little to do with the autumn breeze openly hitting them. Sewoon’s arm over his shoulders suddenly seemed so much more imposing to all of his senses. His heart felt like it was floating about without a destination like the countless leaves sailing through the city air._

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we currently do not have any mozzarella stick-“

“What kind of bullshit hotel is this!” The woman on table 17 threw her arms in the air in utter disbelief. “Grab your shit, kids, we’re leaving.” The woman abruptly stood up and left with two children scampering behind her.

Youngmin needed a moment and a prolonged sigh to move on. The waiter had no idea what it was with that particular day that had several clients snapping at him in the span of a couple of hours. Reasons ranged from the colour of somebody’s shrimp to the lack of busty waitresses to look at. Summer could be a trip.

Youngmin went to tap one of his colleagues on standby to take over his tables for a bit before heading to the kitchen. He needed a time out and the central marble countertop seemed like an inviting space to be perched on.

He shoved the kitchen doors open with less grace than usual and let them sadly flap back together behind his back. Life was bustling around the stoves and ovens, feet shuffling back and forth through the room and instructions being exchanged around the space. Sewoon was decorating a salad on the counter. His tongue slightly poked out of his mouth in concentration; Youngmin had known of that habit for years, yet wasn’t sure if Sewoon himself was aware of it. Youngmin unceremoniously plopped on the counter next to Sewoon with the intention to observe the chef in his natural habitat for a while.

The two were in a bubble of comfortable silence for a period of time that went by way too fast, in Youngmin’s humble opinion, when Sewoon detached himself from the counter with the ready dish to hand it to one of the waiters. Youngmin’s gaze remained on his folded hands in his lap. A glance at his watch confirmed his unpleasant hunch that his shift was going by at an anguishing pace.

“Hey, Min.”

Youngmin raised his head towards the source of the voice that addressed him, only to promptly sputter due to having something thrown in his face. Several frantic hand motions later revealed the item to be Sewoon's apron. As for the chef in question, though, Youngmin only managed to catch a glimpse of him scurrying out of the kitchen as soon as he removed the fabric that obstructed his vision.

Youngmin couldn't trust his confused mind to make rational decisions in moments like that, which is why he relied on his legs to lead him on the trail after Sewoon on sheer autopilot instead. He looked both ways after exiting the dining hall, catching a sliver of Sewoon's uniform with his eyes right at the corner leading to the main hallway of the floor. Immediately as Youngmin rounded said corner, however, his senses were only quick enough to register the feeling of somebody grabbing him by the forearms and pulling him inside one of the nearby elevators.

The doors closed behind the two employees as Sewoon pressed the button for the top floor of the hotel. The erratic heartbeat galloping in Youngmin's chest gradually calmed to the tune of the generic elevator music filling the space. “You're honest to God going to murder me one day.” Sewoon at least found it in himself to sheepishly grin at the statement. “What was the mouthful of kitchen apron for?”

“I had to make you follow me somehow. Don't judge, reasonable decisions at short notice aren't my forte.”

“If at all.” Sewoon jabbed Youngmin in the side for the remark. That made the waiter crack a smile despite his lingering turmoil at the situation.

Youngmin leaned his back on the elevator wall. He was entering the stage of acceptance amidst this whole bullshittery. “I was going to mention how we're not allowed to go on the top floor, but knowing you, that probably won't stop you.” Sewoon nodded. “How are you one of the most composed people I know, you delinquent. I need a friend circle reshuffle.”

“Oh, come on, when have my ideas ended up terribly wrong? Wrong – yes, maybe, but never terribly, you have to give me that.” Youngmin snorted at his best friend's half-assed attempt at a rebuttal. They left it off at that, letting the elevator music engulf everything for the time being.

A familiar ding marked the end of their ascent. The elevator doors opened to reveal a narrow space, where the only relevant destination was a single flight of stairs leading to the hotel's roof. There were doors on either side of the small staircase, both usually kept locked in case of nosy hotel guests. Youngmin was going to dismiss the idea of getting anything worthwhile out of the whole journey to the top, until Sewoon whipped a key out of his back pocket and unlocked the first door.

Youngmin gaped. “You're actually dangerous.”

“I'm on pretty good terms with Hyeongseop. I've earned my tools fair and square,” Sewoon explained with a smile as he approached to unlock the last door before the expanse of the roof.

The slight sea breeze that snaked its way past the door crack brought along a sense of déjà vu to Youngmin, though he couldn't quite recall where from. The two found themselves out in the open after a few steps with a grand view of the city center beneath them. The beach could be seen after a slight turn to the left, greenish-blue waves swaying to their own tune.

“We should come out here some time at night. All the city lights would be amazing.” Sewoon hooped an arm around Youngmin's elbow, pulling him a tad closer to the verge of the roof. “There can be some pretty shitty people in here, but the place itself is quite bright. Don't let a couple of dumbasses taint a nice summer, yeah? Let's go for a drink after work.”

The concept of time could be quite frightening when one stopped to mull over how it managed to erode even stone-carved facts. Yet there were some things that even time was powerless against. Youngmin had gained a couple of centimeters since high school, some baby fat had left him, and he liked to think he had gotten a tad more mature as well, but he never quite succeeded in suppressing the sensory overload that surged through his nerves when Sewoon openly took care of him like that.

 

 

 

“I'm heading outside. Have fun, though,” Jihoon had said before leaving Jinyoung alone with his thoughts and a mountain of boxes.

Jinyoung mentally counted down from ten, starting from the exact moment Jihoon vanished from sight. Around four or three, he had armed another cardboard box from the heap near the back door to drag inside. After the voice in his head got to one, he started humming a tune while working. Some song on the radio that had snaked its way into his mind was leaking out again, weaved into a soft voice. Any job seemed lighter accompanied by music.

He decided to head inside the store to check which section was in the biggest need of restocking and tend to it first.  The moment Jinyoung turned towards the inner door, though, his humming abruptly spiked up into a high-pitched screech after seeing Daehwi casually chilling on the threshold.

“How long have you been standing there and why do you want me to die an early death?” Jinyoung needed to grasp the nearest wall and hold his heart in place with a hand over his chest.

Daehwi didn’t seem even remotely bashful. “Not long enough. You have a pretty voice. But please don’t die, Jihoon witnessed me approaching you, so I’d be at a disadvantage in court.”

Jinyoung’s ears had disconnected from his brain somewhere after “pretty voice”. The realization that Daehwi had listened to him sing crashed through him in several shades of blushing cheeks. He turned his back to the door to supposedly fret over some stacks of canned food that were already in appropriate order.

Daehwi inched closer to Jinyoung’s fussy figure. “Tell me what you’re supposed to do, I want to help.”

“Oh, you really don’t need t-”

“Bae Jinyoung, don’t go all getlemanly on me,” Daehwi crossed his arms over his chest, “I did come with the intention to latch onto you until you and Jihoon get off break, but I’m gonna hustle for it.”

Jinyoung lifted a finger and took a breath in preparation to stand his ground, but promptly deflated once Daehwi stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. That was the heavy artillery, there was no topping that. “Alright, you win, I’m supposed to put all this stuff on the appropriate shelves inside.” Jinyoung heaved a box up and started swaying towards the inside of the store. “Grab whatever and follow me.”

Daehwi, all sunshine and smiles, wobbled after Jinyoung into the junk food sector with a box of marshmallows clutched close. “Bless, I needed the distraction. Do you know IOI, the girl group? Queens.” The fluorescent light right above the aisle was still blinking precariously. “Yongguk is going to sneak us into their concert in a few days and I’ve been jittery all day. I literally can not wait. I have to do all my talking while I still can cause I’m sure I’ll lose my voice from screeching.”

Jinyoung was playing an intense game of how many jelly bean packs he could shove in a single line onto a shelf before it collapses into a mess. “Ah, I know the group. Mainly for the eye-candy, but I guess their songs are catchy.” He invested more effort into trying to prevent a bunch of snacks from toppling over than he usually did in school. “Feel free to ramble on and hit that talking quota, we have a while in here anyway.”

“Really?” Daehwi’s eyes widened to fit all the sparkles suddenly swimming in his pupils. “You’d tolerate me fanboying? I’m warning you I’m intense.” As someone who had set foot in the store once, he was doing a better job in arranging those marshmallows than any of the employees. Jinyoung could’ve felt a sting of envy if it wasn’t such a trivial tidbit.

“Go for it. I’m way behind on anything mainstream so you’d probably wow me easily.”

Daehwi’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I had a hunch you’d be great to spend time with and I wasn’t wrong.” It was the way he said it that made Jinyoung look at him. No waver in his tone, delivered without a hint of ulterior intentions. It was easy and fond and Jinyoung wasn’t used to being addressed like that. The jelly bean packets just couldn’t stay into a neat line on the shelf and Jinyoung thought life was unfair.

The smile twisted into light mischief. “I’m rarely wrong anyway, but that’s another topic.” That popped Jinyoung’s bubble of ambivalence and made him shove Daehwi by the shoulder. The two shared easy glances and burst into laughter.

 

 

 

The sun swept the streets clear of people near lunch each day with its scorching lashes. There were the homey types, who sought refuge in their flats or hotel rooms with the air conditioners on the brink of their capabilities, the opportunists, who simply relocated their fervor to seize the day to a café, restaurant or some similar shelter for free wanderers, and the bold types, who went to tackle the burning beaches and take a dip in the blue infinity.

Sungwoon was some hybrid type, who took his lunch break under the shade of the tree behind the flower shop with a sketchbook in his lap and a slim cigarette nestled between plump lips. A cat laid poised on the other side of the street across from him. With a few more deft pencil strokes it would soon be lying on a page of his sketchbook as well.

The casual sketch was proving to be a bit stubborn with some difficulty while outlining one of the paws when the living prototype across the street suddenly stood up and padded away into an alley. Sungwoon sighed out a gust of smoke.

“Ah, this is a pretty familiar view.”

Sungwoon looked up to the source of the voice and moved a bit to the side so Seongwoo could sit on the curb next to him fully embraced by the tree's shade. “I calmed down after seeing you like this for some reason. Lord knows Taehyun got spooked back there in the club when you refused a smoke.”

Sungwoon snorted. “He gets spooked when I don't order my usual from the pizza place too. Don't take him seriously.” He reached to tap the back pocket of his jeans and took out a pack of cigarettes. “Want one?”

Seongwoo gave the small box a quick once-over and faintly crunched his eyebrows. “You smoke slims?”

“I've been thinking of quitting, to be honest, but I can't go cold turkey. So I've just been smoking progressively weaker and weaker stuff.”

“Well fuck, now you're spooking _me_. Are you gonna shave your head and begin meditating every morning too?” Sungwoon huffed out a laugh and lightly punched Seongwoo on the shoulder. “Any reason?”

“These little life-suckers,” Sungwoon waved the pack around for emphasis, “are one more thing on the list of dumb university life mistakes I have tucked in my pocket somewhere. After clearing the biggest one out, might as well just get them all out of the way.” Final deep inhale of gray mist before Sungwoon stubbed what was left of his cigarette on the curb. Seongwoo silently traced the thin trail of ash left there with his eyes. “Let me backtrack and attempt to be at least mildly polite. What leads you to this quiet corner of the city in the most insufferable time of day?”

“You.” Seongwoo snuck a folded sheet of paper out of a pocket of his pants. “I came armed with a job offer.” Sungwoon raised an eyebrow in confusion. “The gist is that there's going to be a wedding at the grand hotel restaurant next week. Jaehwan wants you to do flower arrangements for us again. Spoiler alert: the lucky couple this time ‘round is filthy rich, so this is a good idea.”

Confusion swirled even more intensely in Sungwoon's eyes. “Jaehwan does?”

“Yeah, you low-key gained a fanboy. I think he finds you interesting. I'm just waiting for him to drag you out to a karaoke night, honestly, that's like the classic Jaehwan way of displaying favour.” Seongwoo shook the piece of paper by one of its corners till it unfolded itself and passed it to Sungwoon. “Any details on the job are on here. It has both mine and Jaehwan's numbers on the bottom so feel free to hit either one of us up when you decide.”

Sungwoon took the paper slip, slightly miffed at how beat up it looked after Seongwoo’s treatment. “Question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do I just get your shit delivered or do I get to go to the actual wedding site?”

“Whichever you decide on, really. If you feel up for it we can let you plan the arrangement placements in the restaurant too.”

 “You implied the wedding's going to be expensive, though. Are you sure you'd let a hobbyist like me wreak havoc?” Sungwoon's eyes widened at the prospect.

Seongwoo scoffed and waved his hand nonchalantly. “Frankly? The bride is kind of a bitch, so I couldn’t really care less if her flowers are in a hundred dollar vase or up someone's ass. You're good to go. I was gonna hook up the other guys with a job on this too, but Hyunbin's stuck at the club all month and the family said they have a personal photographer, so I couldn't call Taehyun either.”

Sungwoon lowered his gaze to the curb in contemplation. “I'm up for all of this, to be honest. I don't really have anything better to do. I also haven't really been to a wedding, so I’ll most likely show up on site too.”

“Welcome to the dream team,” Seongwoo clapped a hand over Sungwoon’s shoulder with a sly grin. “Who knows, you could even get some during the party. It happens often enough.”

Sungwoon detached Seongwoo's hand from his shoulder with an exaggerated frown. “Pretty sure that's not going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, nothing to be shy about. One time I got Hyunbin to barman at a wedding he ended up doing body shots off of one of the bridesmai-“

“I think it's time for you to _go_.”

 

 

 

It was still an hour until the concert, yet the lines of fans in front of the venue were already notable. The summer sun loved lingering above the horizon for as long as it could afford to and it was around that time that it usually decided to begin sinking into an inky void far beyond.

The concert squad arrived near the venue after a certain amount of time spent searching for a parking space in that particular full crevice of the city. The trip may or may not have included a swear or two aimed at any horrible driver along the way, of which there were lots. The car probably would’ve been able to run on the sheer amount of hype Samuel, Daehwi and Seonho had managed to generate on the back seat. The boys were clutching their lightsticks for dear life. Gunhee had nestled himself in the passenger seat and popped most of his IOI album collection into the car stereo, claiming the discography marathon to be a necessary warm-up. Hwanwoong was trying his best not to rapidly swerve into a ditch when everyone tried to simultaneously hit the high notes in the songs, but he couldn’t resist joining in on some harmonies either.

“Holy shit, though,” Samuel muttered in awe with his eyes dead set on the buzzing mass of people surrounding the concert venue.

Gunhee turned to pat his brother on the shoulder. “Daehwi, give me the light stick, I need to glue it to Hwanwoong’s head so we don’t lose him in the crowd.”

Kenta arrived at the parking lot to the view of Hwanwoong chasing a screeching Gunhee around the perimeter while the youngest ones were heatedly discussing fan chant ideas. He whistled to seize everybody’s attention and promptly began leading them towards the back entrance to the venue. The five boys stuck behind him much like ducklings would follow their mother.

Yongguk swiveled his chair towards the door of the waiting room once he heard the ruckus approaching. “Welcome to the Batcave. What do you want to do before the show starts?” General consensus led the whole herd backstage, where Dongho was already fussing over the sound system and running mic checks. Seonho and Hwanwoong did the Naruto run across the empty stage and back with Kenta’s judgemental expression following them closely.

Daehwi was marveling at the equipment hooked to the set in awe, recognizing brand names and functions in a blink. Trailing after a mess of cables on the floor with his eyes led him to Dongho, who was arranging everything accordingly. The two briefly locked gazes, but Daehwi looked away as if he had gotten burned. Truthfully, Dongho’s aura is one he hadn’t gotten used to, one that paraded through the goosebumps it left on the younger boy’s arms.

Keeping his gaze far away is what made Daehwi not notice Dongho approaching him until the point beyond possible evasion. That would’ve marked the exact and only moment in his life he was glad that his brother was a walking noise hazard, as Gunhee’s screeches in the background masked Daehwi’s gulp.

“Hey, Daehwi.” The younger one willed himself to raise his gaze. “I noticed you looking over the equipment. Gunhee has mentioned you’re really into music. Wanna help with the final quality checks and get your hands on all the stuff?”

Any and all prejudices Daehwi had forged flew out the window when Dongho cracked a soft smile to accompany his question as well. Daehwi learned Dongho was a Music Production major while the two of them were hunched over sound equipment. Dongho learned Daehwi was studying on a scholarship in a school for arts while the younger one flicked keys and switches with deft fingers. The backstage work was done with rather quickly.

“Breathe in, boys, it’s show time,” Kenta told the overjoyed group of guys who couldn’t stay put before he ran off towards the venue entrance to pass the memo that fans could begin trickling in.

The fantastic fivesome got ushered towards the designated audience zone. “Dude, no homo, but I need someone to hold me right now or I’ll scream,” said Samuel before latching onto Daehwi’s back like a koala. On their way to the bottom, the boys heard more than saw a stampede of footsteps approaching the backstage area and soon witnessed an army of stylists pacing back and forth where they had been dicking around minutes ago.

Glimpses of silky female hair couldn’t escape the eye mere moments before the squad had to step down into the seating area. Gunhee’s mouth opened wide in shock as he craned his neck over his shoulder to watch the girl group members lining up on standby meters away from the open stage. All the blatant staring in any direction but the one he was walking in prompted him to trip over his own feet and fly onto the floor. All normal, up until the point he felt some seams at the back of his pants making a sound one didn’t want to usually hear when he tried to quickly get up to his feet.

Girlish giggles had already caught up to them by the time Hwanwoong managed to half-pick up, half-drag Gunhee away. “Of all the times your clumsy ass had to rip your pants, it happened in front of IOI. Can you believe.”

“I’m never taking this pair of underwear off until I die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still in denial over the fact that this took me literally two weeks to write (sorry for which, oops) but honestly... This chapter was... Difficult x.x Jihoon and Guanlin alone took me several days and I edited/changed/re-wrote lots of parts. Probably cause I'm trying to delve into different characters more now. 
> 
> I suck at cliffhangers if it hasn't become obvious already but if I have to build some sort of anticipation lemme just say chapters 5 and 6 (6 especially) will contain mess


	5. Broken Compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 84 years
> 
> if this chapter seems odd it might be because I've gotten a tad rusty after the hiatus but I TRIED, enjoy

Amidst patios and flower beds bloomed Sunny Beach’s grand hotel. It pierced sixteen floors deep into the seaside sky and overlooked the city center like a guardian entity. Any point above the fifth floor held an enthralling view that could even reach the sea waves swaying not too far away, but the thirteenth floor is where the presidential apartments began stretching behind hallway walls with slightly better maintained paint.

On the balcony of one such apartment stood a typical garden table surrounded by several chairs of a similar design. The squawking of seagulls was a signature sound of early mornings near the coastline, with the occasional bird diving into one’s immediate line of sight and promptly flying away once more. A bolder one tried landing on the balcony railing, but flapped away with indignant screeches once Minhyun flailed an arm in its vicinity.

Euiwoong tipped his teacup in Minhyun’s direction. “I’m not implying anything here, but just to note – we get the most seagulls when you’re here.”

Minhyun groaned. “Minki calling me a mom is enough, I don’t want nature in on the joke too.” He stole a quick glance at his watch. ”Also, isn’t Youngmin suspiciously slow? He just went down to get more tea, but it’s been ten minutes.”

“He’ll be fine, _mom._ ” Minhyun faked throwing a sugar cube at Euiwoong, making the younger cackle in the process. “Plus he’s always the one that ends up doing the trivial stuff. I can’t complain about him with that in mind.” Euiwoong poked around the plate of scones in the middle of the table, comparing texture and crunchiness until he found the ultimate winner and his next victim.

“Feeling guilty all of a sudden?” Minhyun questioned between coffee sips.

 “Guilt?” Euiwoong asked before snickering around a mouthful of scone. “I don’t have deviations like that.”

The characteristic sound of the main apartment door creaking open crawled to the balcony. Youngmin made his way back to his chair, dropping a box of tea packets on the table. “I brought company.” Before either Minhyun or Euiwoong could question his word choice, Moonbok popped in through the threshold with a bigger smile than one would expect to see so early on in the morning.

“Surprise!”  Hugs and greetings out of the way, Minhyun pushed an extra chair towards Moonbok, who sat with a thankful nod. “Youngmin saw me wandering around the lobby and had enough mercy to bring me along.”

Youngmin pulled the scone plate a bit closer to their side of the table. “Have some, Sewoon’s specialty. So, what brings you here at ass o’clock in the morning?”

“I was supposed to open shop today, but the security system went bananas on me, the alarm went off and the lock just jammed,” Moonbok explained before nibbling on a scone. “Wow, Sewoon knows his stuff, this is quality.”

Euiwoong’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t catch the part of this that has you so cheery.”

“I called a technician guy to fight the demon and got told to just go home until stuff got fixed. Won’t take too long, I assume, but any time off work is still time. So, I thought I could drop by in the meanwhile.”

“If at least half our staff were this positive about their time off, distributing shifts maybe wouldn’t have been such a cramp in the dick,” Euiwoong muttered while rubbing his temples. “Just my daily dose of wishful thinking here.”

Moonbok was enough of an angel to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “How about you three? Isn’t there some hotel policy about not hanging out in guest rooms, or am I being too morally correct again?”

“No, you’re not, we’re just nasty. But look,” Youngmin motioned beyond the railing, towards the odd puzzle of buildings and streets stretching through their vision, towards the wavering line where sand and sea shyly kissed and broke apart repeatedly, “it’s not every day that one of the apartments on the upper floors is free. Who wouldn’t kill for a view like this?”

“We’re the freaks that wake up the earliest, so we sometimes arrange to come up for a cup of coffee before work when we catch an empty presidential apartment,” Minhyun supplied while fiddling with the tea packets and arranging them in some relative order.

Moonbok nodded with a small hum of acknowledgement. “Can’t relate. If it wasn’t for work, I would’ve probably become an extension of my bed.”

“It’s not _too_ early before work,” Euiwoong checked his phone lockscreen for the time, “I should probably even head down right about now. Pass me a napkin, I want to wrap a scone to bring to Seop.”

Youngmin did hand over a napkin, not without throwing Euiwoong a purposeful look in the meanwhile. “You’re pretty fond of him, huh?” he questioned.

The scones left on the plate underwent a selection process under Euiwoong’s scrutinizing gaze. The supreme champion deemed the most presentable amongst its brethren found itself in the secure embrace of the napkin. “I am an involved and caring superior.”

“Does the care in question include you spending your shifts on his desk?” Minhyun’s coffee cup may had hidden the view of his mouth and whatever emotion it may had been twisted in, but it did not block out his words or his sharp gaze.

“I’m overseeing his work ethic,” Euiwoong tried his best to reply as quickly and curtly as possible to avoid offering any crevices in his sentences for the others to sink their fangs into.

“Hear that, Minhyun?” There was a glint in Youngmin’s eyes. He was out for blood. “Kids these days call it _overseeing_.”

“I think I’m missing something here.” Moonbok’s eyes were flitting from person to person in the hopes of seaming together ghosts of context.

Youngmin beat the rest to the finish line of a reply. “Euiwoong has been glued to Seop for over a week and the joke opportunities are just too easy.” Euiwoong did not look impressed. Youngmin shot him a smile sunny enough to re-heat the teapot inconspicuously sitting though the whole ordeal on the table.

“Look, let me present my educated view of the situation.” A finger was raised in Youngmin and Minhyun’s general direction in a reprimanding manner. The gesture could only translate to a declaration of verbal war. The soldiers had betrayed their general, however, as no immediate reply came to be. Euiwoong’s mouth hung open in silence for a beat too long until the first coherent sentence on his tongue managed to clamber past his lips. “Hyeongseop confuses the hell out of me.”

“I thought I heard something about an educated view?” A corner of Minhyun’s lips that had twisted upwards into the shadow of a smile peaked out from behind his cup.

“Kindly shut up.” Euiwoong paused to rub at his eyes. As if his own thoughts as well were intent on teasing him with the way they were messily flying through his head. “Here’s the deal. With clients, he’s the embodiment of poise. Doesn’t stutter, doesn’t let the business appearance drop. While alone or with the rest of the staff, he’s usually quiet and extremely inoffensive, looks almost fragile.”

Euiwoong’s eyebrows scrunched together again, most likely in frustration. “With me, he’s just a dumbass. A nice dumbass who smiles too much and occasionally cracks narcissistic statements. I don’t know how all of those mesh together into a single person, but they do and it’s confusing.”

Youngmin’s expression had settled for a warm smile. Glimmers of hope swam through Euiwoong’s mind. “You’re giving me and Donghyun a run for our money in the whole observation game.”

The specks of hope promptly scattered back to whatever corner they had appeared from. “You guys _suck_ ,” Euiwoong left his chair with a huff. “Alright, seriously now, I’m going. The staff is going to be a living mess until that wedding passes in two days and I’m the one that has to play shepherd.” He did not look back even after passing through the balcony door threshold with quick and purposeful steps.

The same familiar sound of the apartment door opening and closing in quick succession echoed through the space. Youngmin pierced the veil of silence with a slurp of coffee, afterwards completely severing it with a question.  “How long before the entire hotel learns about Lee Euiwoong’s bit fat fluffy crush on our new receptionist?”

“Too late,” Minhyun shook his head, “I overheard some of the maids saying we might as well just bribe the priest and make that upcoming wedding a double one.”

“That was a practice question. The real one now – how long before the icon of emotional constipation actually does something to sort his feelings out?” At some point Youngmin had begun absent-mindedly drumming his fingers on the bare surface of the table.

“About that.” Minhyun’s coffee cup reclaimed its rightful seat on the small porcelain plate with a familiar clatter. He propped his chin on a makeshift bridge of his intertwined fingers. “I may or may not have a strategy.”

Youngmin answered him with a fond chortle. “Of course you do. If you didn’t, who would’ve.”

Moonbok had been absorbing the transpiring conversation like a bath sponge. “I feel like I’m intruding on a classified corporative meeting.”

Minhyun couldn’t help but smile at the remark, “Welcome to Hwang Enterprises. We have power, resources and free tea.”

 

 

 

 

With how intense the lighting in the venue was, Daehwi was certain that colours would most likely continue flying throughout his field of vision for a while after the event was over.

He took advantage of a break between songs to glance around and assess the situation. He noticed that the banner in Samuel’s hands was only put to its intended use half of the time; during the other half the boy simply fanned himself vigorously to subdue the excitement. Seonho was attempting to replicate some dance moves from the stage, which was genuinely not a wise idea in a cramped audience, but he was a head taller than most people present, therefore rendering everyone near him physically unable to stop him in any way whatsoever.

One of the idols took their jacket off to throw it towards the audience. It landed somewhere in Hwanwoong and Gunhee’s general vicinity, and the two were an impulse away from severing their friendship to brawl for it.

The number of wrecked vocal chords on the fans’ side was uncertain. Hours were no different than mere minutes to the excited senses. Soon enough, the dim lighting gradually brightened. Final roaring ovations bounced between the walls as the group bid goodbye, leaving the audience to slowly waddle towards the exit.

The five-man squad headed in the direction opposite the huge crowd to sneak back into Yongguk’s office; they strategically surrounded Gunhee and took coordinated steps to cover up the huge rip at the back of his pants. Frustrations and difficulties in navigation aside, they did manage to reach their destination without casualties despite giving off the impression of toddlers lost in a supermarket.

The door closed behind the five boys, followed by a string of awed expletives and a tired sigh or two. Samuel’s desire upon entering the room was nothing more than to sprawl himself over the couch, which he did. He quickly regretted the decision after Seonho followed closely and sat on top of him, nothing but a loud wheeze being able to express the struggle. Hwanwoong and Gunhee were still loudly mourning the loss of that jacket they didn’t manage to snatch because they had been too busy squabbling like a married couple.

It wasn’t long till the door to the office welcomed more people. “That couch is _leather,_ ” Yongguk stated in a borderline distressed tone while pulling Samuel off by the ankles, both him and Seonho gracelessly meeting the floor with a thud.

Weakly leaning on the doorframe, Kenta whined, “Are we going to go for food now? Please say yes. I feel like I’ve fought three wars today.” The suggestion was immediately accepted through a needlessly loud collective shout of “ _nuggets_ ”, thus the case was closed.

 

 

 

 

Spread out like a wild bird’s wings, albeit not even a quarter as enthralling in appearance, laid notebooks on the coffee table with stray stationery supplies loitering amidst the paper jungle. A coffee pot hid behind a leg of the table, away from any possible accidents involving nasty stains and last-minute regrets. Hyunbin was absent-mindedly chewing on the end of a pencil while staring at a particular paragraph, as if that habit somehow made strings of business lingo fundamentally easier to grasp.

At some point after rolling the same sentence around his mind like a washing machine for at least five minutes, he buried his face in the couch cushions with a groan. His pencil dropped to the floor before disappearing somewhere into the dark recesses beneath the couch. Hyunbin didn’t bother reaching for it. There was a solid possibility that the space down there hadn’t been cleaned since Minhyun had gotten busier with work. He would’ve shuddered if he had lingered on that thought for much longer.

Simply the view of stacks of paper became nauseating on certain occasions. It was a view Hyunbin had become familiar with throughout his academic life, but customs did not ease away the dreadful associations. His grades had improved enough throughout the semesters to a point away from the edge of the danger zone, yet not a point at which he could calm down completely either. Cue Hyunbin, sitting hunched over some of the recommended textbooks for his next year, despite classes waiting a summer away.

The fleeting thought of grades managed to subliminally snowball down the mountains of utter mess in Hyunbin’s mind into a warped lump of doubts. The previous blankness in his head melted away to paint images of those close to him donning expressions of disappointment. Hyunbin squirmed in a reflex attempt at scrubbing the notion off of his brain.

The lump of bubbling thoughts grew big enough to anchor him to the couch. When it became too much to carry all at once, the sudden ache manifested in shallow breaths and stinging eyes. The sensation wasn’t new to Hyunbin – he knew he wouldn’t have been able to willingly pluck it from the corners of his mind alone.

What he also knew, though, was that he wasn’t necessarily alone.

Without moving from his cooked noodle position on the couch, Hyunbin let his hand blindly slap around the coffee table until his fingers grazed the cool surface of his phone. He unlocked it by sheer muscle memory and only lifted his head from the shelter of the soft cushion fabric once he had to search for a particular number. After pressing the call button, Hyunbin didn’t have to wait through more than three rings to get through.

“Hello?”

“Jonghyun?” Hyunbin would’ve winced at how wrecked his voice sounded, but figured he was beyond the point of retreat anyway. “This is probably super sudden. If you’re at work, I could call late-“

“The shop is dead empty, it’s honestly okay. Is anything the matter?”

“I’m just…” A gulp cut Hyunbin’s sentence, allowing him to search for appropriate wording, “not feeling my best right now.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” Jonghyun’s tone of voice gave off the exact steadiness Hyunbin lacked at the moment. Hyunbin genuinely couldn’t put into words how much he appreciated his calm approach to fragile situations like the one at hand.

“I was flipping through a textbook and I guess I got a bit overwhelmed. God,” Hyunbin’s clasp on his phone tightened the slightest bit, “I’m sorry that most of the times I vent it’s about academics. After so many times, one would figure I’d have sorted my shit out already.”

“Any worry is still a worry, and the fact that it’s reoccurring makes it all the more valid. Go on.”

“I never filled the application forms expecting Business Management to be easy, but the fact that I’m struggling is affecting me more than I’d like to admit, both to others and to myself. This is something I chose myself, Jonghyun, I wanted this major nobody forced me into.” Hyunbin was painfully aware of the way his shaky voice was progressively spiking up in volume after each sentence. “But that’s exactly the disappointing part. It’s something I want to do, yet…” His tone lowered to the edge of a whisper. “Yet even with all the effort I’m barely mediocre.”

“Hyunbi-“

Hyunbin’s stream of rambles descended back into a frantic tone. “My finance professor literally asked me if I was sure I was in the right lecture hall one time. Why didn’t I just enroll into something involving languages, Jonghyun? I was fucking great at languages in high school. My teachers back then passed me pamphlets for Linguistics courses. I probably would’ve been good at tha-.”

“Kwon Hyunbin.” Jonghyun’s voice was firm, it left no place for sidetracking. Exactly the one usually dubbed the “ _dad tone_ ”. All jabs aside, it rarely failed in grabbing the attention it reached for. Hyunbin gulped and allowed himself to shut his lips for a cooldown. “You’re going for your dreams – something most people don’t even have the balls to consider – and you’re working your ass off for it. Your results have gotten so much better than they were in the beginning and they will keep getting even better. Don’t be so hard on yourself, because wherever you currently are is definitely not the end.”

Hyunbin licked his lips in an attempt to distract himself from the unpleasant dryness in his mouth. Surprise washed over him once he caught a stray tear with his tongue. The point at which droplets had begun rolling down his face had legitimately escaped his field of attention.

The numbers indicating the length of the call kept increasing with seconds spent in silence. “Are you taking deep breaths?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit less of a mess now. Thank you.” Hyunbin had composed himself enough to sit up properly and melt back into the couch. “I’m not even saying that out of common courtesy, legit, thank you, Jonghyun, fuck. You’re literal goals as a human. I’m bitching about the uni I wanted to be in here, but you literally gave up your dream major to help your sister instead. I must’ve saved a country in a past life to have you tolerate my shit now.”

The phone line slightly distorted Jonghyun’s chuckle, but made it no less caring. “You know you’re impressive, right? In case you forgot, I’m here to remind. You’re trying your hardest at something you struggle with and you’ve been off meds for several months now. That’s pretty damn amazing.” Hyunbin took a breath in preparation to stubbornly brush off the praise, but Junghyun beat him to it and took the word. “Are any of the guys at home?”

“They’re all at work. I’m alone.”

“That settles it, then. What food do you want?”

Hyunbin blinked in confusion before realization crept up on him. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re about to…”

“Yes, I’ll be over in less than thirty minutes. Nobody in the city will die if they can’t buy a fridge magnet for a day. Download some movie while you’re waiting, but I’m warning you, we’re not watching Mulan for the fourth time in a row.”

 

 

 

 

“You sure you don’t want to go ahead with the others?”

“Yep.”

“And you sure you don’t want to get out of my face?”

“Definitely.”

Yongguk was hastily threading sloped squiggles of ink on the paperwork strewn atop his desk. Reports were the least exciting part about wrapping up events, but if they meant staving off inspections and avoiding the possibility of someone finding the spare weed baggie Taehyun had taped to the bottom of one of the drawers, then it wasn’t so meaningless of a step.

Seonho had his chin propped on Yongguk’s shoulder, peering at the haphazardly strung together sentences appearing beneath Yongguk’s hand with more interest than such a dry office scene warranted under normal circumstances. Their cheeks were stuck together, and it wasn’t the most comfortable proximity to be in during the season of heat strokes and lingering sun kisses, but Yongguk couldn’t really find it in himself to shove the kid off.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the fact that we’re sparing the ecology by sharing oxygen, but you would’ve had more luck sticking to Kenta, he’s the soft one,” Yongguk stated, not looking away from where his pen lazily dyed his work in ink.

“But I already gave Kenta gummy bears yesterday,” Seonho replied, unadulterated honesty in each word, “I have to balance the scales now and give you love too.”

Yongguk was a tad fascinated by the way the kid made life sound so simple. “Fair enough. Carry on.”

Seconds were serene and minutes were trivial. The sound of the pen’s practiced scribbles wasn’t loud by any means, yet it managed to fill the whole room by itself.

“Yongguk?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“That’s not what I _meant_ ,” Seonho stressed, and Yongguk could feel the cheek pressed to his scrunching in what was probably a pout. The kid was dangerous. Yongguk could see why some of the guys were an impulse away from printing out adoption papers for him.

Yongguk’s free hand reached for Seonho’s general vicinity in a badly aimed attempt at patting his head, almost poking him in the eye in the process. “I’m not exactly in a position to refuse, now, am I? Go on.”

A few beats later, Seonho’s tone had regained its full cheer, “How did you and Kenta meet?”

 

_A vibration, followed by a single tone; maybe the tenth one in the span of the past few minutes. Yongguk set aside his handouts with as little gentleness as he could afford without ruffling the paper in favour of pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket. Social media notifications were a bit like problems – the more they piled up, the harder it got to ignore them._

_Yongguk scrolled through some positive replies to his recent post, some expressing affection through a surge of heart emojis, some simply opting for silent yells through capital letters. Each new piece of content brought him more followers, which he truly hadn’t expected even in his most daring assumptions. He had opened a Twitter account to share pictures of his cats for nothing more than stress relief, after all._

_Apparently people were into cats. Rightfully so; felines were fascinating creatures that deserved nothing less than the adoration of mortals. Yet it still made Yongguk smile to himself every time he witnessed people brimming with affection at the regularly scheduled candid pictures of his two pets._

_A few more movements of his thumb over the screen, and Yongguk saw it. A familiar account had commented on his post, wording slightly awkward (maybe due to foreign descent, if the Japanese characters in the username were any clue). The appreciations came across regardless, though; good taste knew no boundaries. Amidst the hundreds of appreciators, this one was particularly devoted, liking and leaving a cute comment on every post. Yongguk never anticipated to find a person as enthusiastic about his cats as himself, but the world was truly vast._

_A few seconds of silent contemplation led to a single tap on the “Follow” button._

After the pen made one more sentence out of nothing, it scribbled no more. Yongguk set it aside with slight clatter, rummaging the mess of papers on his desk for some stray paperclip. “I forgot already,” Yongguk replied in the meanwhile. He felt Seonho’s pout creases faintly pressing into his cheek again after that answer, and it took a notable deal of self-control not to crack a smile of contrasting amusement.

 

 

 

 

“Daehwi and I will go order, you stay here as an eyewitness in case Kenta passes away in the near 5 minutes,” Gunhee declared, punctuating his words with a slap on Hwanwoong’s shoulder. Kenta merely groaned from where he was half-sprawled over the barely spacious table of the nearest fast food joint they had stumbled upon. The place seemed a bit dingy, if the cracks running through some of the tiles on the floor were any factor, but there was a sign at the front that boasted discounted chicken nuggets, therefore temptation won over reason.

The tables and chairs of the food court were positioned with as much of a pattern in mind as the seashells casually strewn around the beach shore. Navigating through that mess, the Lee siblings slowly sauntered towards the front counter. Before driving away to drop Samuel off home, Dongho had given Gunhee a hoodie to tie around his waist, now entirely covering the rip that still elicited an occasional cackle.

With his head propped on his hand, Hwanwoong simply peered at the two brothers as they walked away, taking in the view of them joking around, laughter running through their frames in the subtlest of trembles. “I’m so glad for them,” he candidly stated.

From where he had his face buried in his arms, Kenta turned his head enough to be able to throw a look at Hwanwoong, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, wait, you don’t know about the thing with their parents, do you?” Hwanwoong replied, turning back to face Kenta. “Feel up for a story?”

“Well you can’t just drop that foreshadowing and leave me at a cliffhanger,” came Kenta’s reply, almost shaping a pout, “I’m all ears.”

Hwanwoong couldn’t help but snort, “This feels like high school lunch break gossip all over again.” He lay on the table in a splitting image of Kenta’s pose. “Anyway,” he carried on, “nothing too deep, actually, it’s just an open secret that Daehwi is the favourite kid. I still remember how back in junior year when Gunhee spent a birthday with nothing but me on his couch, and the cheapest chocolate cake we could find because his mom and dad were at one of Daehwi’s piano recitals. I don’t think they even called.”

The pout on Kenta’s lips had unfurled in its full glory, pulling his eyebrows along in a worried scrunch as well. “Damn, that bad?” he asked with a note of unease.

“It was pretty shitty. Gunhee basically got a quarter of the encouragement Daehwi did for virtually the same stuff. Honestly, he has every reason to be bitter as hell, but he absolutely adores the kid and I just respect him for that.”

Kenta hummed in understanding, a slightly distant look in his eyes, “I wouldn’t have guessed it from the way he holds himself.”

“Right? Hyperactive asshole,” Hwanwoong muttered with no malice in his words. A few moments passed until the words set free settled in; he let out a short-lived sigh, “They’re cute. Make me wish I had siblings too.”

“Meanwhile I still have war flashbacks from when my older sisters put me in skirts when I was a kid,” Kenta bemoaned, “I made it work, but that’s not the point.”

Hwanwoong made no attempts whatsoever at stifling his bubbling laughter. “Why does nobody ever let you live?”

 

 

 

 

Daehwi’s eyebrows were scrunched in scepticism. “Do we have enough money for 50 nuggets, though?”

“I am an independent working adult, I got this.” Gunhee rummaged his pockets until he retrieved his wallet, haphazardly opening it to assess the situation. He began counting the coins pooled at every nook and cranny, and when the moment stretched for longer than anticipated, Gunhee looked up from his wallet, eyes the slightest bit wider. “I might not be as independent as anticipated,” he said, sounding as lost as he looked, and Daehwi rolled his eyes.

“We’re getting those nuggets,” Daehwi concluded with satisfaction as he pulled out his own wallet. The immediate shift from subdued panic to unadulterated joy in Gunhee’s eyes was whiplash-inducing. When Daehwi deftly opened his wallet, however, a single coin managed to roll out and hit the tiled floor with a clear ring, wasting no time in rolling away beneath the maze of disorganized tables and chairs of the food court.

Their gazes silently followed the escapee. “Well that one’s lost,” Daehwi summarised as casually as he could when the coin could no longer be seen from their vantage point. “Let’s go order,” he said before turning to leave.

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Gunhee grabbed Daehwi’s wrist to keep him in place. “We’re just gonna leave that?”

“It’s just a single coin, though?” Daehwi mused out loud, “Someone else can find it like a charm.”

“ _In this economy?_ Boy, I forgive you since you haven’t tasted the poverty of uni student life yet, but your self-preservation mechanisms need some serious work.”

This train of thought led Daehwi to the floor not much later, slowly crawling beneath a bunch of tables in search of the coin. The journey was marked by a few questionable stains on some tiles and maybe a bit too many pieces of gum stuck to the undersides of the chairs. A flicker on metal caught his eye at some point.

Daehwi rushed to the target of his attention, swiftly clapping a hand over the coin to apprehend it from rolling away any further. When that task was out of the way and his focus wasn’t solely dedicated to his older brother’s warped ideas of financial planning, Daehwi realized he could clearly hear parts of Hwanwoong and Kenta’s conversation. He had almost crawled all the way back to their table. The absurdity of that epiphany was put on the back-burned, however, as he clung onto the words that he managed to overhear.

_“…nothing too deep, actually, it’s just an open secret that Daehwi is the favourite kid.”_

Some abrupt situations felt like falling witness to a car crash: you wished to turn away, yet some morbid sense of curiosity kept you rooted to your spot, rendering you a spectator to the culmination of flames and nausea.

The last words to reach Daehwi’s mind were somewhere along the trail of _“…_ _a quarter of the encouragement...”_ before he turned to the opposite direction to patter away as silently as possible.

 

 

 

 

Guanlin’s lanky frame would’ve led most to suppose he’d be a clumsy one, yet the way he effortlessly balanced a few extra large pizza boxes on one palm contradicted any appearances. He shoved the back door of the pizza place open with a shoulder, and that familiar light evening breeze hit him anew.

The lamp posts in the smaller neighbourhoods and more narrow streets boasted variety in their own special way. Some a tad crooked, some bearing the marking of a stray lash of graffiti spray, some letting the rust of moist seaside air and time embrace them; some shined brightly after sunset, some flickered irregularly, some were merely dim versions of what they once were.

On the lamp post adjacent to the back door, the one that barely had much life in it to light the cracked pavement beneath, a figure was leaning with no hurry to tense its frame. Disregarding the setting that was reminiscent of a classic horror movie setting enough to approach parody territory, Guanlin smiled. When Jihoon took the cigarette between his lips away, he returned the candid greeting with a smile of his own.

“Waiting for something?” Guanlin questioned.

“Not anymore,” Jihoon replied, after which he blew out a wisp of cigarette smoke that seemed much more elegant threading through the night. “When are you getting off shift?”

With a thumb pointing down the narrow street, Guanlin explained, “I’m heading for my last order now, actually. You can come with if you’re up for it,” he offered cheerfully.

“Deal,” Jihoon said, “though you owe me a pizza after this, because that stuff you have to deliver smells real tempting.” He stubbed what was left of his cigarette on the crooked lamp post before pushing himself off and following Guanlin, who ambled away with the boxes in tow. A short walk led them to a garage a few doors down, where the company vehicles were kept.

Guanlin loaded the pizza at the back of the delivery scooter and took a seat without a thought to spare, leaving himself on autopilot; he hoped his silence wasn’t making it obvious he was zoning out. A sudden visit on a night shift was quite the shift from the ordinary. Yet, when Jihoon tried to squeeze himself on the scooter seat with a hefty dose of effort and the occasional groan, Guanlin decided it wasn’t an unwelcome shift. Maybe they could take the longer route on the way back, the one stretching by the beach, where the waves could be heard.

“Can this thing hold us both?” Jihoon asked, swiftly latching himself onto Guanlin’s back when he heard the tell-tale sound of the engine starting, anxiously eyeing the ground.

Guanlin passed Jihoon a spare helmet, and when he put one on himself afterwards, his little grin was to be left unseen. “We’re about to find out.”

 

 

 

 

_“Oh my God, I would die for them.”_

_Kenta lay on his stomach, sprawled on the floor, melting into the carpet a bit more each time either of the two felines leisurely pattering around him purred. Yongguk silently observed all the coos and cat fur tousled in the middle of his room. In a far away plane of his mind, he was mildly concerned about letting Kenta lay on a floor that possibly hadn’t been vacuumed in an alarming amount of time, but the guy seemed positively blissful, so Yongguk let him be._

_Spontaneous conversations on social media became frequent, regular. The topics of conversation gradually spiralled from cats to daily trivialities, likes and dislikes, aspirations and fears. For the first time in a long while, words were easy._

_Even a question that was fully capable of bringing forth significant change was so simple to type out._

_“Want to meet up this summer?”_

_And they did. Yongguk’s flat was cramped, there was fur on possibly every piece of furniture, and the neighbours’ habit of throwing trash out the window (that often wound up on Yongguk’s balcony) wasn’t the warmest welcome. Yet it was just as the conversations that led up to it – easy._

_So that summer, they met up. Then the following summer too. For a holiday or two in between as well._

_One night Kenta was on the floor again, surrounded by the humble household’s two cats. Yongguk had learned to vacuum the carpet in his room more often, thus had no qualms with lying nearby with his gaze stuck to a takeout menu. His eyes were flitting through the names of various dishes printed out in an ugly font, but they didn’t quite register in his mind._

_“Kenta?” he inquired suddenly._

_“Yeah?”_

_“What do you think about looking for work here after you graduate?”_

_With two cats lying on his chest, with hands occupied by gentle scratches and belly rubs, with almost no delay to his words, Kenta answered._

_“Well, why not?”_

 

 

 

 

The game Euiwoong had been playing for the past 15 minutes boasted “YOU LOSE!” with bold colours twisting together on his phone screen, which elicited a frustrated groan out of him. The realization of exactly how loud he was being for no good reasons made his eyes nervously flit through the staff room, despite the fact that he was entirely aware of how empty it was sans his presence.

The boredom resting on Euiwoong’s shoulders made him ponder on taking the few steps separating him from the coffee maker and whip up a cappuccino for the sheer sake of busying himself with some task, no matter how menial, but the two already emptied coffee mugs on the table in front of him were drawing him away from any impulsive agenda.

The low creak of the staff room door diverted Euiwoong’s attention from the way he was aimlessly unlocking and locking his phone with no particular thought to fixate his mind on. A tuft of hair appeared just around the threshold, fingers gripped the edge of the door, and Jaehwan poked his head inside the room. The slight squint of contemplation didn’t manage to settle on his expression for more than a second before he recognized Euiwoong sitting on the old couch and cracked a small smile.

“Perfect, I was looking for you,” he said, letting go of the door and leisurely ambling inside, “We need to talk business.”

The subtlest shadow of surprise passed through Euiwoong’s features. “That’s a powerful word there. I’m all ears,” he replied, chucking his phone aside.

Jaehwan dragged the ratty beanbag from the corner of the room closer to the table so he could be face to face with Euiwoong once he clumsily plopped in it. “I’ll cut to the chase, it’s for that wedding,” he started, “Seongwu and I are busy fighting for decent catering deals, so we’ll need someone to go pick up the décor we ordered and set it up downstairs.” Jaehwan pulled a piece of paper out of his pockets and casually began unfolding it. “Here’s the inventory checklist,” he said, topped off with the gall to cheerily wish, “have fun.”

It was obvious Jaehwan had been keeping the piece of paper folded somewhere in the deepest recesses of his pockets for a considerable amount of time, because it looked like it had seen much better days, what with the deep creases forming its spine and the numerous shallower crumples crawling in every other direction. Euiwoong could only stare as Jaehwan tossed the checklist at him, and when the paper soundlessly hit the table, all the words that had been simmering in his mouth erupted at once, “Wait, what the fuck, why me exactly? Don’t you usually hire people for this?”

“Hear me out here,” Jaehwan began with conviction, “Seongwu’s a dipshit with a temper the size of a tea candle, so he got in an argument with the team we usually hire for décor, and nobody else is available on such short notice.”

Euiwoong could only look at the list and the names of various items scribbled over its uneven surface, hoping Seongwu had an identical one somewhere on him too, because Jaehwan’s copy seemed ready to self-destruct soon. “That still doesn’t answer the “why me” part,” Euiwoong stressed.

“Well that’s the easy part.” If he wasn’t aware of who he was dealing with, Euiwoong would’ve found it surreal how casually Jaehwan was approaching this entire conversation. “On some level at least you hold power, you supervise stuff, so it’d make sense to get someone like you to give their two cents on how the hotel gets to look for a pricey event,” Jaehwan explained, leisurely crossing his legs on the beanbag.

“I have my own job though, smart ass,” Euiwoong pointed out with a low-scale frown clouding his features.

“Just clear Minhyun’s schedule for two days and get him to do your stuff,” Jaehwan nonchalantly waved a hand, “we both know he can get on some war general tactician bullshit if need be.”

“Get a room attendant to administer the staff? If we somehow get a surprise inspection, they would bust our asses.”

“You have guests snorting cocaine off the balcony rails of your hotel and you think _this_ will get us into trouble?” The exasperation lining Jaehwan’s face was almost taunting. “Man up, egg roll.”

Euiwoong sharply inhaled as if to shoot back a reply, but for a few seconds, no words came out. “I hate that I can’t even argue with that,” he peacefully settled. “But still, I’m not up for this, I don’t know anything about weddings. Handle your own frills and lace.”

“You sure you don’t want to have control over this?” Jaehwan questioned with a note of exaggeration in his tone that made Euiwoong squint in suspicion. “The clients are quite bitchy, it would be a shame if…” he trailed off, and the way a smile was starting to play on his lips really wasn’t aiding the headache blooming in Euiwoong’s head, “…something happened to their wedding.”

Euiwoong’s grip on the couch armrest absent-mindedly tightened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Seongwu and I have enough jobs lined up for the season to earn well even if we screw this up,” Jaehwan self-assuredly declared. The way he halted his train of thought to relax back into the beanbag was nothing short of sardonic. “Don’t you think a huge LGBT flag hanging off the curtain rail would compliment the restaurant tablecloths?” Jaehwan wondered out loud.

To rub even more salt into the wound caused by his blackmail prowess, Jaehwan could genuinely barely stifle his amusement from the situation. His shoulders were shaking in what seemed like the beginning of that characteristic loud laughter of his. Euiwoong was caught staring in disbelief. “I hate you guys so much,” he could only mutter bitterly.

Jaehwan flashed a peace sign with a wide smile that might’ve even been cute under different circumstances, “I advocate nothing but love and peace.”

Euiwoong let go of the poor armrest to instead rub his temples. “I’m going to find Minhyun,” he announced after a short while. He grabbed the crumpled checklist from the table and stuffed in his pocket as he stood up from the couch. “If I’m going to be declaring that he’ll be on daycare duty in this bullshittery for a few days, might as well break the news to him face to face,” he tiredly elaborated as he made his way out of the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Jaehwan couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore and erupted in amused cackles, clutching his stomach because of how hard he was cracking up. When the chortles calmed down and gradually subsided, he stood up to head to the mini-fridge, his trip marked by a gleeful twirl or two. After taking out an iced coffee from the allegedly “staff-only” stash, he threw himself back on the beanbag and snuck his phone out with his free hand.

 

 **dirty socks** _[12:14PM]:_

he bit the bait

your move now, sun tzu

 

 **french maid** _[12:16PM]:_

bless you, my trusty pawn

 

 **dirty socks** _[12:16PM]:_

how do your shitty plans always somehow work

 

 **french maid** _[12:16PM]:_

it’s karma for you always calling my ideas shitty

also I’m reminding you I left cash on the coffee table at home

for someone to go buy a new dish drying rack

 

 **dirty socks** _[12:17PM]:_

yeah

about that

seongwu may or may not have

uhh

bought something else instead

 

 **french maid** _[12:17PM]:_

…

something else

 

 **dirty socks** _[12:18PM]:_

something a bit too far from a dish drying rack

 

 **french maid** _[12:18PM]:_

don’t even tell me

guess who’s sleeping on the balcony tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya girl has a whole twitter acc now, a multifandom mess, find me [@shimramyun](https://twitter.com/shimramyun)


End file.
